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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785735">Touchdown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatpen/pseuds/Chocolatpen'>Chocolatpen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sendai Shooting [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Angst, Bullying, Cheating, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Deaths established in first chapter, Eating Disorders, F/M, Hockey, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Oikawa Tooru is Regina George, Possessive Behavior, School Shootings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:41:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatpen/pseuds/Chocolatpen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto Koutarou, star football player. Kuroo Tetsurou, captain of the hockey team. Oikawa Tooru, queen bee of the student body. And Akaashi Keiji, another normal teenager desperately clinging on to his popularity.</p><p>After a school shooting turns the sleepy town of Sendai on its head, Akaashi reflects on the months leading up to that fateful day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Futakuchi Kenji, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Terushima Yuuji, Bokuto Koutarou/Shirofuku Yukie, Hanamaki Takahiro &amp; Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sendai Shooting [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>A little bit of pain never hurt anyone except it did, haikyuu fans need therapy; in this essay i will...</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. After (1) - The Day After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! This started because I wanted a bit of a break from writing smut in "Green Eyes". I know I shouldn't be starting this while I have other things to write but I couldn't resist!! &gt;.&lt;</p><p>This fic is doing to be d a r k, so please take note of all the warnings: eating disorders, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, everyone's basically underage, there's one instance of rape/non-con, and of course the fact that it's a *school shooting*. If you're going to get triggered by any of this PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE READING. </p><p>I was inspired by Jodi Picult's "19 Minutes" and of course, just every other trashy American high school drama. I don't know anything about American football or Hockey. I'm researching as I go along, trying to inject that bit of American influence.</p><p>The story will go non-linearly, where we will jump between the past and the present with each chapter labeled "before/after". I know it will seem a little disconcerting at first, but everything will make sense once I finish it. And also, there's the option to re-read it linearly after you've finished it.</p><p>I don't have a beta reader so I try to edit my work as best as I can. It's definitely not foolproof so I'll be coming back to read through the chapters again and edit away any mistakes u see ASAP.</p><p>Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this!! I'm excited to write it :) Comments are always appreciated!! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Akaashi Keiji wakes up with a headache.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes flutter open, a bright emerald shade under the harsh late-morning light streaming in through his curtains. It takes about a half-second for Akaashi to remember, and then he stops himself from thinking. He’s not going to dive back into that shit storm until he’s had breakfast, at least.</p><p> </p><p>Reaching out for his crutches, Akaashi slips them under his arms and hobbles out of bed in an attempt to start his day normally.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s parents aren’t home, as they most often aren’t. Even when their son needs them. Desperately.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has never been too dependent on his parents. They’re busy people, both lawyers for the city council. But that also means that they must know of the investigation. They must know how close Akaashi came to dying in a school shooting. Just being in one is stressful enough for anyone, and yet. They’re not here. Fled the house, most likely, so that they don’t have to deal with the emotional fallout. It’s nothing too different from their usual behaviour.</p><p> </p><p>Staring at himself in the mirror, Akaashi's gaze roams over his short black curls and the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He’s mostly uninjured, far from top-priority, considering they let him leave the hospital without an overnight stay. He knows he’s lucky – two of his three most prominent injuries are not even from the shooting. There’s the thick finger-shaped bruises ringing around his wrist, and then the giant, dark bruise blossoming on his hip. There’s also his broken leg, but he’s gotten used to it in the weeks since he’d gotten it.</p><p> </p><p>As Akaashi slowly makes his way down the stairs, he grimaces at the dry feeling in his throat and the pain still pounding at the back of his head. It feels like he’s hungover, but he knows it’s just dehydration and shock. Kuroo's presence might have made things better, but he couldn’t stay the night since his parents were actually concerned about him. So Akaashi took advantage of being suddenly very alone and cried himself to sleep; breaking down while revelling in belated horror and stark loneliness.</p><p> </p><p>Pathetic, considering his guilty conscience.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi pours himself some orange juice and takes out a carton of Lucky Charms. He doesn’t usually indulge himself so much – it’ll make him fat – but he’s sure that self-care was invented specifically for this sort of situation. There is also a curious sort of freedom that comes with this new day, hand-in-hand with the knowledge that there’s no longer anyone who’ll hurl curses his way for eating something with actual calories in it.</p><p> </p><p>After taking his time savoring every last bite of the sugary sweetness in his bowl, Akaashi takes his juice in one hand and supports himself on his crutch with the other. He deposits the drink on the coffee table before plopping right down on the couch with a satisfied sigh.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a Tuesday, but he won't be going to school. No one else will, either, at least not at his high school. They’re taking the week off because of the shooting, and then winter break follows immediately after. There probably won't be anymore school for the year. It feels good, like a heavy weight has been lifted off his chest.</p><p> </p><p>At this point, Akaashi just wants to forget the nagging thoughts at the back of his mind and melt into the fluffy pillows lining the sofa. But Akaashi also knows that he’s avoided everything long enough. With a deep sigh, he drags his hand over to a side table and switches on his phone. It’s been switched off entirely since he’d gotten home from the hospital the night before, and he left it downstairs so he’s not tempted to reach for it before bed.</p><p> </p><p>The screen lights up. It takes a second for it to connect to the internet, and then Akaashi knows it’s working right because his phone keeps ringing over and over again.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo (30 New Messages)</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo (5 Missed Calls)</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa (10 New Messages)</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa (3 Missed Calls)</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi (2 New Messages)</p><p> </p><p>The list keeps going on and on, rolling down and down the flashing screen till finally, his phone quietens in his hand. Akaashi looks at it in disbelief. Even Sawamura and Terushima had tried contacting him. Even fucking<em> Shirofuku Yukie</em>. There are some unknown numbers as well, and Akaashi really hopes that his phone number hasn’t been leaked anywhere. It’ll be a hassle to change it.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi types a quick message to Kuroo, telling him he’s awake, before he throws his phone towards the other end of the couch. He doesn’t want to have to deal with this now, doesn’t want to have to deal with his friends and their never-ending drama - maybe even their derision and scorn - while he doesn't even have a handle on his own feelings. Akaashi knows he’s being selfish, but for once he can't bring himself to care.</p><p> </p><p>Contemplatively, Akaashi drums his fingers on the arm of the couch before turning on the TV. He switches the settings from Netflix to local channels and taps in a few numbers to get to the local news. It’s of no surprise that they’re talking about the shooting. Nothing much goes on in their small town, so this story – a story that has almost definitely made national headlines – is something that the journalists are going to sink their claws in.</p><p> </p><p>“The Nation stood shocked, yesterday, when fourteen students were killed and twenty-five more injured in a horrific school shooting in Sendai.” The news castor looks sympathetically into the camera, and Akaashi’s palms start to sweat. The death count last night had been lower – had been at twelve, not fourteen. Akaashi gasps, hands flying to his mouth, as two pictures are blown up on the screen. “Young 17-year-olds Matsukawa Issei and Miya Osamu succumbed to their injuries in Sendai Hospital late last night. Our condolences go out to their families.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi hadn’t known the older Miya twin very well. He had been quiet, but always at Kuroo’s beck and call. As had his twin, and oh God. Akaashi wonders how Atsumu is dealing with this. He wonders if Atsumu is even awake yet. There were many who needed treatment immediately after the shooting. Matsukawa himself had been rushed into emergency surgery last night, so had Oikawa; both of them people Akaashi considers his close friends. Akaashi remembers holding onto Hanamaki’s blood-soaked hand and telling him everything would be alright. Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>When the picture on the screen changes, Akaashi freezes up like he’s forgotten how to move, how to breathe. That face is one that Akaashi might never forget, not even in his dreams. Large, bright brown eyes – almost golden – stare at him. They’re using his yearbook photo, so his salt-and-pepper hair is styled up in twin horns. There’s a bright smile on his face, expression free and joyous. It’s Bokuto-san.</p><p> </p><p>“The suspect, 18-year-old Bokuto Koutarou, was a star athlete set to graduate this summer with five fully-subsidized football scholarships under his belt.” The news anchor continues, gesturing to the blown-up photo of Bokuto. “He was popular, widely loved and respected at Sendai High. Investigators are trying to figure out a motive behind the violent crimes he committed against the other students. What could possibly have driven this promising young man to murder his classmates, his friends?”</p><p> </p><p>The photo changes, and Akaashi’s heart almost stutters to a stop. It’s their group photo. The one Bokuto had framed on his dresser. Bokuto’s in the middle, signature smile in place and his hand draped over Akaashi’s shoulder. Akaashi is smiling too, not as broadly, but easily happy. Kuroo’s in the photo, on Bokuto’s other side. He and Oikawa are throwing up peace signs in the back. Iwaizumi is next to them, next to Oikawa, glowing in a smile even though his hands are crossed over his broad chest. Hanamaki and Matsukawa are grinning twin smiles over Akaashi’s head. Sugawara and Sawamura are less conspicuous, arms around each other and bright smiles picture perfect. Sendai High’s golden couple. Terushima is there too, sticking out his tongue at the camera. That was back when he hadn’t gotten his tongue piercing yet.</p><p> </p><p>It looks so simple from the outside, like they’re all this big happy family. But it’s not that fucking simple. It’s never simple.</p><p> </p><p>The photo flashes away, replaced yet again by Bokuto’s goofy yearbook photo. Akaashi grimaces. Bokuto wouldn’t be happy about this, having this photo in particular blown up for the world to see. He would’ve preferred something else, like one of the photos of him – of which there are many – plowing down an opponent on the field.</p><p> </p><p>“Unfortunately, Bokuto Koutarou was declared dead at the scene of the crime. According to investigators, the suspect turned his gun on himself in the moments after the first police units arrived on site.” The news anchor exhales in a deep sigh as the picture disappears. “It’s unfortunate that teenagers have to resort to such violence nowadays. Our support goes out to the community, as well as the families that have lost much in this shocking incident. Tune in later for more updates on the Sendai Shooting.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi allows the TV to continue droning on in the background as he stares blankly at the screen. Bokuto Koutarou, someone bigger and brighter than himself, is dead. He’s dead. Killed by his own hand.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto Koutarou? Killing himself? A bubble of something like laughter catches against Akaashi’s throat. </p><p> </p><p>Akaashi flinches, reaching for his crutch as a weapon when he hears noises from the front door. He remembers the last time he had an uninvited visitor, and his eyes trail to the dark wooden staircase and the carpet at the bottom of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s that?” Akaashi calls, tensing as the footsteps near. Warily, he holds the crutch in front of him like a very blunt spear.</p><p> </p><p>“Chill, it’s just me,” A familiar voice replies, sounding a little hoarse. Immediately, Akaashi relaxes even before the person has turned the corner.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo Tetsurou pokes his face in first, black hair standing on his head and drooping into one of his eyes like a rooster’s comb. Bokuto sometimes got acne from all the product he put in his hair. It used to drip down on his face when he was exercising, up until he finally decided to leave his hair soft and natural beneath his favourite Sendai City cap. Kuroo never had that problem. He’s always claimed his hair is natural, and somehow, it actually is.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo shoots a wry smile at Akaashi before entering the living room proper. He’s tall, taller than Bokuto had been, but leaner with sinewy muscle that he definitely knows how to use. Akaashi has seen him on the ice, once or twice, not to mention that he holds his own in a fight. Kuroo is wearing a pair of ripped jeans and their varsity hockey team hoodie underneath his winter jacket. Overall, he looks normal. Just like any other day in school – even though it’s as far off from a normal day as it can be.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo shrugs off his puffer jacket as he slips down next to Akaashi on the couch. Without delay, Akaashi reaches to unravel Kuroo’s scarf. He hesitates, then traces a finger lightly against the purpling bruises that line Kuroo’s neck like a noose. It looks even worse than it did the day before, and it’s not going to go away for a while.</p><p> </p><p>“Good thing it’s winter, huh Akaashi?” Kuroo tries to say it lightly, but Akaashi can hear the strain in his voice. He hadn’t been able to talk at all, voice coming out in whispers, at the hospital.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t speak.” Akaashi frowns at Kuroo. It’s only when the taller boy dips his head in the shadow of a nod, that Akaashi relaxes against him and lays his head on the soft material of Kuroo’s sweater. Kuroo rests his hand on Akaashi’s head and brushes an idle hand through his curls.</p><p> </p><p>They sit there like that, in silence, idly listening to the news. Akaashi doesn’t know if Kuroo feels the same, feels that strong wave of relief that its over. He probably doesn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san…” Akaashi starts, and the hand on his head stutters. Akaashi licks his lips just to stall. “The news said Bokuto-san is dead. He’s dead because he committed suicide. Can you believe that?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo hums. Akaashi doesn’t know if he isn't sure what to say, or that he’s just keeping to his word. Akaashi’s heart hurts, somehow, even though he knows it shouldn’t. Bokuto shot so many people – so many of their classmates and friends. He hurt so many people, killed people and tore up the very fabric of their lives. </p><p> </p><p>Akaashi feels the tears slip down his face. It’s a silent kind of crying, and his chest doesn’t even heave. Maybe he’s in shock, still.</p><p> </p><p>Once Kuroo notices the state Akaashi is in, he gently curls a hand around Akaashi’s jaw and pulls him flush against his chest. Akaashi lays there, listening to Kuroo’s slow, steady heartbeat. It’s comforting and solid beneath him, so Akaashi relaxes into Kuroo’s heat and closes his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s going to be okay.” Kuroo says, when Akaashi is almost lulled to sleep. “We’re going to be okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo's voice is totally wrecked, and some of his syllables come out in wheezes. He must have been pushing himself before, or more likely torn up something inside his throat again. Despite this, he sounds resolute, and it's almost embarrassingly easy for Akaashi to believe in him again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Before (1) - The Big Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Omg guys you have no idea how touched I am to receive so many wonderful comments!! I'm so happy that y'all like this idea because it's like its been writing itself, I'm feeling so inspired!! </p><p>My update schedule is every 4-7 days, depending on when I get the next chapter written. I try my best to keep within this limit but I'm also approaching a hard time in the semester so just bear that in mind in case I'm late :)</p><p>I love all the haikyuu characters but they are written to be very pure. Here, they are less pure ^^ HAHA well I hope you guys enjoy this chapter too! Comments are love &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>September.</p><p> </p><p>The last tendrils of summer are receding, yet the sun still seems to beat down on them with piercing intensity. Akaashi squints against the sun flares to identify Bokuto down on the field. The giant 4 on his back is a good indicator, at least, because from far away football players all look the same with helmets obscuring their faces and stock-photo beefy bodies.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa is still missing, although Akaashi doesn’t need to guess where he is. Iwaizumi’s down on the field – and so is the rest of the football team – so Oikawa is probably hooking up with one of the hockey guys down below the bleachers. While Oikawa is officially with Iwaizumi, it’s an open secret amongst most of the student body that Oikawa really isn’t one to keep it in his pants. Not that anyone would out him.</p><p> </p><p>Not that anyone would dare to.</p><p> </p><p>Beside Akaashi, Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro are busy harassing some of the sophomores sitting in the row in front of them. Matsukawa has a head full of dark, wavy hair that curls flatteringly around his face. His most prominent features are his thick eyebrows, which happen to be the envy of the student population. Hanamaki, on the other hand, has dyed pastel-pink hair that’s cropped close to his head in a way that makes his cheekbones jut out like a high fashion model. His voice, although mocking most of the time, still sounds rough and deep enough to be perpetually sexy.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, I remember this kid, Mattsun,” Hanamaki suddenly perks up, eyes bright as he digs his heel into a boy's back to get him to turn around. Matsukawa tilts his head to the side, but ultimately shrugs, so Hanamaki turns to Akaashi instead. “Akaashi, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi rips his eyes away from the game, where they’re in some of their final minutes, and stares impassively at the kid. He’s not someone especially noteworthy, but the way he looks back at them with wide eyes and an open mouth full of braces jogs Akaashi’s memory. “Yeah. The fire hydrant.”</p><p> </p><p>The kid flinches, while Hanamaki only laughs harder, leaning into the foot he still has pressed up against the kid’s back. “I almost pissed myself, it was so funny – you know, how you tripped and fell face first onto that fire hydrant. And knocked out all your teeth in the process.”</p><p> </p><p>Matsukawa seems to remember what happened, too, because his mouth curls into a smirk. “How fucking clumsy can you get?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi blinks at them, the momentary feeling of pity gone as fast as it came, before going back to locating Bokuto on the field. It's an important game, one that will put them at the top of their bracket, which means that Akaashi can't miss a single thing. Bokuto Koutarou is nothing if not prideful, after all, and it is Akaashi's job as his boyfriend to pay attention to him. It's not a good time for anyone should Bokuto believe otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi is the quarterback – of course he is, it’s the only reason Oikawa is still with him – and he’s running across the field with the ball in his hands. People are tackling each other all over the place. It might seem like organised chaos to someone else, but Akaashi doesn't get it. Even after all this time, even being so intimately close to a boy whose entire life is football, Akaashi’s interest is still close to zero. Unfortunately, it's such a big thing in their community that most, if not all, students show up for games. There are many other people in the crowd too, parents and football fans from the community.</p><p> </p><p>Another player is nipping at Iwaizumi’s heels, but Bokuto comes barreling through and knocks the other guy to the ground. A buzzer sounds, blaring across the bleachers, but Akaashi is preoccupied by the way Bokuto gets up easily, patting off his knees and jogging away with a grin, while the other player continues to groan in pain on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi thinks back to a particularly cold spring day, when a boy had bumped into Akaashi while he'd been heading back into the warmth of the school. Bokuto came up behind him, stuck out his foot and tripped him without so much as a blink. The boy's schoolbooks had gone flying as he rolled down a grassy hill and went head-first into a fire hydrant. There was blood everywhere, Akaashi frozen in his step, but Bokuto simply draped his arm over Akaashi's shoulders and led them back inside. </p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki and Matsukawa had been laughing like a pair of hyenas, just like they are now.</p><p> </p><p>Back on the field, Iwaizumi sprints through the opponent team’s failing defenses. Bokuto and another teammate cover him, which means no one gets close enough to steal the ball away. Once he’s past the goal line, Iwaizumi throws the ball against the ground so hard it bounces high into the air. There’s the sound of a whistle, and then cheering.</p><p> </p><p>“Touchdown!” The announcer screams into the microphone. Akashi winces a little at the volume. “Sendai High is going to state!”</p><p> </p><p>The band starts playing some cheery music, and Akaashi stands from his seat to follow Matsukawa and Hanamaki down the steps. When they reach the bottom row, Akaashi takes a sweeping look across the field and realizes that Bokuto is charging towards them. With his helmet finally off his head, Akashi can see Bokuto’s face. Even glistening with sweat, Bokuto Koutarou is handsome. His eyes are bright and twinkling beneath slicked-back hair, his cheeks red and taut above a blinding smile.</p><p> </p><p>The first time Akaashi saw Bokuto, he thought he’d follow Bokuto anywhere. Those same crippling feelings return every time he sees Bokuto like this, strong and triumphant on the football field.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi!” The shout comes out more like a growl, Bokuto butchering his name like usual. The football player drops his helmet on the ground, kicking up dust, and cracks his knuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, leaning over the railings in question. Bokuto grins wider before jumping onto the metal frame of the bleachers. His muscles bunch attractively as he pulls himself up so that he’s balanced on the other side of the safety rails. Akaashi rears back a little in surprise that Bokuto is suddenly at his height, but then there are rough hands cupping his face and Bokuto is pulling Akaashi in for a deep kiss.</p><p> </p><p>The crowd goes wild, and Akaashi’s face turns bright red.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s lips are chapped and warm, and they move against Akaashi’s aggressively. They’re there for a few seconds too long to be appropriate, then Bokuto lets him go and hops back down onto the field. He winks at Akaashi before picking up his helmet and jogging back towards the rest of his team.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is still in shock – Bokuto is a very affectionate person, yes, but he’d never expected Bokuto to be this forward in front of the entire school, and their parents, and the community, and even their opponents and their supporters. Luckily for a shocked Akaashi, Hanamaki and Matsukawa sling their arms around his shoulders and bustle him down the last flight of steps leading to the space behind the bleachers.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, isn’t that so sweet?” Hanamaki grins, as they head into the shade. It’s a little feral, but Akaashi knows he won’t say anything too mean. They’re supposed to be friends, after all.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh I wish I had someone sweet and heroic like… like Bokuto-san!” Matsukawa gasps Bokuto’s name like one of his fangirls, making his voice breathy and high-pitched.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi hides his very hot, very red face in his hands and lets out a little giggle – which only makes Hanamaki and Matsukawa start with a new wave of teasing. It’s not often that Akaashi’s stoic expression breaks, and they like to take advantage of it every time it happens.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, what’s wrong with Akaashi?” A new voice joins the fray, and Akaashi can <em>feel </em>Hanamaki and Matsukawa grinning at each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san was just being a bit too affectionate.” Akaashi grumbles, allowing his hands to drop loosely in front of him. He can’t help fidgeting with his fingers self-consciously, though. Akaashi still isn’t used to how loud and open Bokuto is with everyone around him.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, it’s such a shame that we missed that.” Oikawa Tooru says, smile sharp and eyes sharper. He’s tall and handsome in a princely way, brown hair and eyes complimented by the pastels and neutrals of his outfit. Oikawa is nice enough, to Akaashi's face at least. “You’re so lucky, Aka-chan! My Iwa-chan would never do anything like that for me. At least not in public!” He winks.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo Tetsurou is standing next to Oikawa with his arm slung casually over the shorter brunette’s shoulders, and it solves the mystery of who Oikawa had been hooking up with during the game. The captain of the hockey team is tall and attractively muscular, but still not as thick as Iwaizumi. Kuroo and Oikawa may be similar in the fact that they both like sleeping around, but Kuroo’s physical appearance is almost the total opposite of Oikawa’s – all dark hair and dark eyes and dark leer to Oikawa’s fake cheery brightness. “It must have been pretty risqué if Akaashi’s still blushing.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Oikawa kind of splutters a little, bringing his hand up to hide his smile. Matsukawa and Hanamaki laugh too, and Akaashi sighs. He hates how they like bringing this up to put him down, and he hates how Oikawa loves calling him Aka-chan. “Aka-chan here is a virgin.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows he doesn’t look like it. His face is usually set in stone, so people don’t really know what he’s actually like until they get close enough to him. He’s dating Bokuto Koutarou, who's one of the most sought-after athletes in the entire district, and he’s best friends with Oikawa, Hanamaki and Matsukawa who, between the three of them, have probably fucked anyone they’ve deemed worthy enough on the social totem pole.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s virginity is something they usually keep under wraps, because it kind of kills their reputation, but he guesses Oikawa wants to have a little bit of his petty revenge for being shown up. Even though it’s not Akaashi’s fault that Oikawa disappeared during the game so Iwaizumi couldn’t have called out to him in front of an audience – or that Oikawa just <em>had</em> to choose the most morally upstanding member of the football team.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Kuroo’s eyebrows actually shoot up in surprise, his creepy leer dissolving. “So that rumour that you let Bokuto share you with Kaito-sensei so that he’ll pass his last semester isn’t true?”</p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki and Matsukawa are howling in laughter at this point, although Oikawa still seems a little put off. Akaashi blinks a few times, and then frowns, the last of his blush bleeding off his cheeks. “No. Where did you hear that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh-” Kuroo starts, suddenly looking unsure, when Oikawa interrupts. He steps forward, shrugging Kuroo’s arm off his shoulder and plastering a blinding smile on his face. “Iwa-chan! My hero!”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi Hajime is as rugged as they come. He has a simple type of attractiveness in his tan skin, thick build and testosterone-heavy features. There’s dirt smudged on his face from the game, and he’s frowning. “Shut up, Shitty-kawa.”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto and another boy are following after him. It’s Sawamura Daichi, with his cropped, no-nonsense, classically handsome features and rumored honey thighs. He’s also, funnily enough, the only member of the football team who has yet to be approached by Oikawa, Hanamaki or Matsukawa. Which is why the honey thighs thing is just a rumour.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi steps aside so Oikawa can flounce up to Iwaizumi with a pout on his face. It transforms into a sweet smile as Oikawa comes to a stop and links his arm around Iwaizumi’s. “Nice touchdown, quarterback.”</p><p> </p><p>Intel from either Matsukawa or Hanamaki, most likely, since Oikawa had been too busy sucking off Kuroo’s face - and more - to watch his boyfriend’s game. Akaashi’s thoughts are disrupted as Bokuto steps forward and tucks him into a strong hug, pulling Akaashi so that his back is flush against Bokuto’s wide chest. It’s hard to breathe for a little while, then Bokuto’s arms relax. He leaves them linked around Akaashi’s waist and then leans down to rest his chin on Akaashi’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Good job out there, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi compliments, allowing himself to smile a little wider than usual when Bokuto beams back at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, good job out there, bro.” Kuroo is watching them with a half-smirk on his face. There’s something like amusement dancing in his eyes, but it’s gone when he blinks. Kuroo then turns to Iwaizumi and Sawamura. “Both of you, too. Very good job. You had some really nice plays on the field today, Iwaizumi.” There’s nothing in his voice that alludes to what he and Oikawa were up to.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. I always do.” Iwaizumi grins, the afterglow of their landslide victory behind it.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can’t help but feel a little bit bad. Iwaizumi is probably the only person in the entire school who doesn’t know that Oikawa is cheating on him. It’s not even always the same person, but Oikawa likes coming back to Kuroo and Terushima because he finds hooking up with friends from the same clique more convenient.</p><p> </p><p>It’s then that Sugawara arrives. There always seems to be a flurry of activity around him, and he buzzes into the circle to give Sawamura a big bear hug.</p><p> </p><p>Sugawara Koushi - the current Student Council President. Beautiful in the kind of way a fairy or a nymph is, he has a head full of wavy grey hair, big brown eyes to rival Oikawa’s, and a grin big and bright enough to solar power a whole plantation. He and Sawamura have been together since the beginning of time, even before Oikawa first stuck his tongue down poor Yachi Hitoka’s throat in freshman year and unlocked his sexual deviance. Sugawara is the one and only reason why Oikawa hasn’t had a taste of Sawamura’s thighs, and Oikawa really hates him for it. Not that he would ever let it show in public.</p><p> </p><p>“Suga! I was wondering where you’d gone off to. Still busy with charity work?” Oikawa says, in that bright way that Akaashi absolutely hates. It sounds so genuine, but it’s really not.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows that Oikawa only calls it charity because he’s jealous and bitter that Sugawara is choosing to hang out with other people over them – that Sugawara had the power to leave the little cruel game that Oikawa has made, and still won his title without the power of their clique backing him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oikawa! Not everyone can be like you. I’m sure you watched Iwaizumi <em>closely</em> the whole match. That’s the kind of dedicated you are, after all.” Suga laughs, slapping Oikawa on the shoulder so hard he teeters away with a crooked smile still glued on his face.</p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki and Matsukawa blink at each other, and Akaashi bites his lip. Sugawara isn’t like them anymore, one of Oikawa’s minions. He doesn’t need to be scared that one wrong move could end his whole social life, could make his high school career a living hell. He’s still the only one – maybe Iwaizumi would too, if he ever finds out about the cheating – who dares to go up against Oikawa, and that’s because their popularity is balanced equally on a scale.</p><p> </p><p>Neither of them will push each other too much, though. It’s already their last year. Oikawa and Sugawara are not going to risk another big fight because both of them are also equally as scared of losing. Akaashi would be too, if he were them.</p><p> </p><p>After all, the higher they climb, the harder they fall. And right now, they’re already at the summit.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. After (2) - The Hospital</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think this is a chapter that many of you were looking forward to! :) Some of your questions will be answered, I hope!! :D Also, please be reminded of the warnings.</p><p>Thank you all for the support!! You guys are amazing &lt;3 I hope you enjoy this chapter too!! I love y'alls comments!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Akaashi knows that there’s a head hunt for them. He knows, but he still goes down to the hospital with Kuroo. They could have gone separately, maybe, because that would have been infinitely better for their public image – but then, without Kuroo, Akaashi might have just broken down right there in the parking lot.</p><p> </p><p>“Are… are you sure?” Kuroo asks, voice raspy, as they step out of his BMW. It’s been a few days, but he still sounds like he’s been surviving solely on a diet of glass shards. He fiddles with the key in his pocket, and the convertible beeps twice.</p><p> </p><p>The sound of the locks securing themselves makes Akaashi even more nervous, but he still nods. Kuroo is by his side in a flash, taking Akaashi’s mitten-clad hand in his with a warm smile. Akaashi knows he doesn’t look very convincing. He can’t even bring himself to say it.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi exhales shakily, his breath escaping in a puff of white. He tightens his hold on his crutches, engages his usual poker face, and then they’re walking towards the front doors of the hospital.</p><p> </p><p>There’s so many cameramen and journalists waiting outside the hospital doors that they swarm around them the moment they realize who they are. The questions come in a flurry, blurring together as they’re jostled around. Kuroo tries his best to take the brunt of the force, because Akaashi’s broken leg is only going to get worse if he falls down here, but it’s like they’re standing in the middle of a very aggressive mosh pit. Akaashi wonders how this is even legal.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a good thing two security guards intervene when they do, because Kuroo looks furious. Akaashi himself isn’t feeling too well, and his hands are shaking where they are clutching at his crutches. The questions are like knives, stabbing him over and over again in the heart. He feels like he might be sick.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s shoulders are up to his ears as they finally enter the building. The journalists aren’t allowed to follow them in, thankfully, but the sound of their cameras going off just doesn’t stop. The commotion has drawn the gazes of all the patients and visitors going about their business in the lobby area, and Kuroo adjusts his scarf self-consciously.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry for that, Akaashi-kun, Kuroo-kun,” One of the receptionists approaches them, a manger tag clipped onto her blouse.  It’s creepy how she knows their names. She ushers them deeper into the building and punches the button for the elevator as soon as they’re in range. “The next time you visit, please use the back entrance, where the Emergency Room is. There won’t be paparazzi there.”</p><p> </p><p>The ride up to the tenth floor is quiet. Kuroo has been trying his best not to talk for the sake of his throat, and Akaashi has never been very talkative. It’s a silence born from mutual understanding, but their linked hands barely contain the permeating feeling of suffocation.</p><p> </p><p>When the elevator doors open, Akaashi and Kuroo step out into deathly stillness. There is a team of nurses stationed at the front desk, some of them bustling about with their duties, but otherwise, the whole floor seems empty. All the doors are closed, and there’s no sounds of talking or laughing. Akaashi doesn’t know what he expected, but high school students aren’t meant to be this quiet. They’re supposed to be noisy and rowdy; they’re supposed to shrug off injuries because they’re young and careless with their lives. They’re supposed to recover and be <em>fine</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo does a double take as he passes Miya Atsumu’s room. There’s a couple inside, clinging to each other next to a single hospital bed. Akaashi can barely hear the soft sounds of sniffling. He’s more distracted by the way Atsumu lies there, hooked up to so many machines yet all but dead to the world. Absently, Akaashi and Kuroo reach for each other and clasp their hands together.</p><p> </p><p>They must have stood there for too long, because Atsumu’s parents notice them. His mother pulls the door open halfway, dabbing at her swollen eyes with a handkerchief. “Ah, Kuroo-kun. Are you here for Atsumu?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo looks back at Akaashi for a second. Akaashi nods, letting go of Kuroo’s hand and leaning against the wall to relieve his armpits of the constant pressure from his crutches. Kuroo is the captain of the hockey team, and both the Miya Twins were his close friends. They had been under his care.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi watches as Kuroo gently brushes past Atsumu’s mother, stops just beside the hospital bed and lays a hand over Atsumu’s. There are so many words in his gaze – apologies, mostly. And sadness and anger. Atsumu’s mother kind of breaks down when she sees this, and she begins sobbing into her hands. Akaashi doesn’t know what to do. He wants to comfort her, but he doesn’t even know her. He doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries.</p><p> </p><p>“The twins were born with weak lungs. It was never supposed to be a problem.” Atsumu’s father sighs, massaging his wrinkled forehead. “They inhaled too much smoke. We’re just so glad that Atsumu is still hanging on- that he’s still with us.”</p><p> </p><p>Right. There had been a fire. Bokuto had started a fire when some of the students hid in the kitchen. He’d fired a few shots into the gas cylinders under the stove and just watched the explosion from a safe distance away. It was where the twins had been hiding, and they took too long to get back out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry about Osamu,” Kuroo wheezes out, the words strained but audible. “He was one of my best friends, Atsumu too. I hope- I hope-” The words dissolve into painful coughing, and Atsumu’s parents look stricken. Akaashi quickly hobbles in and loops an unstable arm around Kuroo. They should have brought some hot water with them.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Miya-san, Kuroo’s voice isn’t fully back yet.” Akaashi says, and Kuroo pulls down his scarf as an explanation. The bruises are still there, sickly purple and darker than ever. Atsumu’s mother starts crying even harder, while Atsumu’s father looks like all the blood just drained out of his face.</p><p> </p><p>Following that, Akaashi and Kuroo excuse themselves from Atsumu’s room quickly. The older couple is already distraught enough without them there to make it worse, and Akaashi feels a pang of guilt for hoping that not every visit will go this way. This isn’t about him. It’s about facing his friends, accompanying them as they deal with the repercussions of Bokuto’s rampage. A rampage that could easily have been attributed to Akaashi and Kuroo.</p><p> </p><p>The room next door is Terushima’s, thankfully. Terushima Yuji is still bright and happy-go-lucky, even alone in his cold room, a bullet wound in his stomach, and hooked up to machines that are keeping him alive. He looks pale, like he’s been drained of colour, and his dyed-blonde hair is lying soft and undone on his head. When he sees them, he sticks out his tongue, and Akaashi is taken aback for a second because Terushima’s tongue piercing is gone. They must have taken it out for the surgery.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, you two look worse than me.” Terushima says, grinning cheekily even though his cheeks are corpse grey. He pauses the episode of jersey shore playing on his laptop. “I hope you guys get married. I didn’t take this bullet so that you two can fuck and then break up by graduation!”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows Terushima is just joking. That’s just what Terushima does. But this time, the teasing hits a little too close to home. Akaashi spares a look at Kuroo, who looks like he’s just bitten into a particularly sour lemon.</p><p> </p><p>“The worst thing about this is that some of my stomach and liver had to be cut out,” Terushima continues, totally oblivious to his visitors’ worsening moods. He lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “That means I can’t drink – I mean alcohol, Akaashi – for months until I recover fully. Me!”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima seems fine, if not a little lonely, so they try to stay for a while longer before heading off to another room. There are many more people in the rooms lining the sterile hallways, schoolmates Akaashi has never spoken to before, yet are suffering because of him.</p><p><br/>Kuroo and Akaashi pause before they enter the next one. Raised voices trickle out from within, but it’s too dark to make anything out from outside. Kuroo raises a hand and raps it against the door.</p><p> </p><p>The nameplate on the wall says Sugawara Koushi, but it’s Sawamura Daichi who pulls open the door. His right arm is in a sling, and some of the skin on his arms and face looks shiny and raw, but he still pulls them into gentle hugs. “Akaashi, Kuroo. Good to see you.”</p><p> </p><p>“How’s your arm, Sawamura-san?” Akaashi asks, eyeing Sawamura’s rather beefy arm. It looks odd just hanging there uselessly.</p><p> </p><p>The football player had been caught in the blast from the kitchen, only he’d been in the cafeteria when it happened. Rumours on twitter are saying that he singlehandedly – and there are <em>many</em> puns being made about how single-handed he is right now – dragged both Miya Twins, as well as Suga himself out of the burning building.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m good. It was a pretty clean break.” Sawamura says, then puts up his uninjured hand in a motion of surrender. “I’ve been scolded enough for overextending myself. You don’t need to do it again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Feel free to lay it on him,” A soft voice floats over, sounding a little amused. The room is a little darker because all the curtains have been pulled shut, and a divider has been placed between the hospital bed and the door. “I’ve already chewed him out multiple times. He should’ve just left me in there.”</p><p> </p><p>A flash of anger flits through Sawamura’s features – not the kind of anger that he shows when his underclassmen refuse to listen to him, or even the kind of anger that gets him worked up when someone hits on Sugawara at a party. It’s something even worse, accompanied by self-doubt and a deep sadness. The expression disappears, replaced with a placid smile, and Sawamura leads them deeper into the room.</p><p> </p><p>When Akaashi sees Sugawara, he has to remind himself not to stare. Kuroo’s arm snakes its way around Akaashi’s waist, seeking comfort from Akaashi even though he doesn’t know how to react, either. Akaashi feels like he wants to throw up, but then that would be really rude, and he would hurt Sugawara’s feelings.</p><p> </p><p>“Sugawara-san.” Akaashi greets. He clears his throat, because his voice wavers. “How-How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>Sugawara Koushi is propped against the headboard of his hospital bed. He’s wearing his favourite brown cardigan over a hospital gown and duck-printed socks on his feet. The usually milky skin of his legs is covered in big, red splotches. They’re burns, Akaashi realizes a little belatedly, even though he knows what happened to Sugawara. The student council president had been standing close to the stove when Bokuto fired at it. He’d probably been the reason why Bokuto did it in the first place. The true extent of the damage is covered by bandages and white gauze. He looks almost like a mummy, wrapped up from the waist up in medical dressing. They’ve cut out a little slit for his blistering lips to peak out through, but Sugawara’s right eye and the grey of his hair are the only identifiable features Akaashi can see.</p><p> </p><p>“Like I almost got shot, and then caught fire instead.” Sugawara says, in a way that makes it seem like he’s telling a joke even when he isn’t. His voice is soft still, and his lips don’t really move. Even if Sugawara isn’t showing it, Akaashi can tell how distraught he is, can hear the deep anger simmering under his voice. It must hurt so much. Sugawara turns his head slowly, just to glare at Kuroo. “Are you so shocked by how I look that you can’t even say a single word? The all-knowing Kuroo-san?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo smirks, looking like a shadow of his normal witty self. “Still… Pretty to me.” The words, like everything Kuroo says nowadays, come out in a painful hiss. Sawamura’s eyes go wide, while Sugawara’s one eye narrows.</p><p> </p><p>“I apologize, Sugawara-san,” Akaashi says, and it’s almost like a routine for them now, how Akaashi talks in Kuroo’s stead as Kuroo pulls down his scarf to show the ring of bruises circling his neck. “Bokuto-san tried to strangle Kuroo. He was unsuccessful, as you can tell, but Kuroo has temporarily lost his voice.”</p><p> </p><p>Sugawara blinks, and his face twists a little bit, like he’s trying to smile. “Blunt as usual, Akaashi.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo and Akaashi leave this room after exchanging a few pleasantries. It doesn’t matter how amiable Sugawara is normally, because the tension in the room is palpable. Sawamura and Sugawara have always been a crutch for each other, supporting each other through whatever the world throws at them, but it seems now that they are both shattered beyond recognition.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t know how Sugawara looks like under all those bandages, but he knows that the pain is enough for Sugawara to wish his boyfriend had just left him to die. Akaashi wonders if Sugawara feels guilty about what they did, if he’s blaming himself for this as much as Akaashi is.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi sighs loudly, if only to distract himself from his thoughts, and Kuroo spares him an inquisitive glance. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here. Akaashi just wants to slump down on the ground into a deep enough sleep that there’s no risk of dreaming of Bokuto again.</p><p> </p><p>They still have to pay one more person a visit, so Akaashi hobbles along the hallway as best as he can. He should have just let himself be wheeled around, but he also doesn’t want to look weak for his friends.</p><p> </p><p>There’s loud shouting, suddenly, from one of the rooms at the end of the hallway. Both Akaashi and Kuroo tense. The shooting started this way, too. They didn’t hear the gunshots till it was too late and Bokuto was too close.</p><p> </p><p>A door slams in the distance, and then somebody is stalking down the hallway, towards them. Kuroo gently pushes Akaashi behind him, so that he’s against the wall instead of in the middle of the hallway. As the person nears, however, they recognize the aggressive stance, thick, tanned arms and brown spikey hair. It’s Iwaizumi.</p><p> </p><p>“Iwaizumi-san?” Akaashi calls, confusion heavy in his expression. The football player looks up at Akaashi first, then at Kuroo. There’s a kind of fire in his eyes that Akaashi has never seen before, and he’s striking before either of them can react.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi punches Kuroo. It doesn’t seem like he’s holding back at all, because Kuroo falls to the floor, cradling his cheek in shock. Akaashi drops his crutch immediately, crouching to the floor and bracketing Kuroo in his arms protectively. His broken leg sticks out awkwardly behind him, useless and bulky.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a flash of something like regret in Iwaizumi’s face, but he just spits out a poisonous “fuck you!” before stomping away towards the elevators.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi blinks after him, then looks at Kuroo. “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo nods, wincing softly as he massages his cheek. There’s blood on his teeth when he tries to give Akaashi a comforting smile, which in itself is more worrying than consoling. Kuroo is strong and he knows how to take a hit, but Iwaizumi is built like a tank.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo stands first, then pulls Akaashi up and hands him his crutch. They make their way to Oikawa’s room – the last one of the day – at a quicker pace than before. The door is halfway open, and Akaashi pauses at the threshold. Unlike Sugawara’s room, Oikawa’s room is flooded with sunlight. Bouquets upon bouquets of flowers are piled up against the wall with the windows. They give the room a sweet floral scent atop overbearing antiseptic.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa is laying down on his bed, clutching at his pillow as he sobs big, fat tears. His leg is bandaged all the way from his foot to his thigh and kept ramrod straight by a brace. Hanamaki is there, by his side, face pinched and hands clutched into tight fists on his knees. Akaashi remembers those fists when they were stained with Matsukawa’s blood.</p><p> </p><p>“Oikawa-san, what happened?” Akaashi asks softly, sweeping into the room. He puts a hand on Hanamaki’s shoulder, and another one on Oikawa’s arm.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi,” Oikawa breathes, turning to face Akaashi. His voice is wet and clogged, his eyes are bloodshot, and his bedhead is terrible. “You came.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oikawa-san, tell me what happened.” Akaashi repeats. Kuroo has approached Oikawa’s bed too, so Akaashi pulls Kuroo closer and gestures at his swelling red cheek. “Iwaizumi-san stormed at us and punched Kuroo in the face.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Oikawa says, and a little giggle rips out of his throat even though there are still tears dripping down his face. “I told him, Akaashi. I told Iwa-chan everything. About the cheating, and the hit-and-run, and about what Bokuto did to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s whole body goes cold, and he lets himself fall slack into one of the chairs at Oikawa’s bedside. Kuroo’s mouth is set in a severe line.</p><p> </p><p>“I was never going to tell him, Aka-chan,” Oikawa says, reverting to that horrible nickname. His tone is far too serious, too wounded, for him to be using it. Akaashi wants to snap at him to shut up, because he’s already said too much. “But Iwa-chan- he protected me. He saved my <em>life</em>. I couldn’t keep lying to him, not about what I’ve been doing behind his back all this time. One thing led to another and, I’m sorry, Akaashi. I didn’t mean to bring you into this too.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa gazes at him with supremely sad eyes, and, for the first time since Akaashi has gotten to know him, actually looks lonely.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Before (2) - The Lunch Table</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! Please always keep the warnings in mind! I don't like to include chapter-specific warnings because I feel like it ruins the flow of the story somewhat, or spoils the plot, so just be careful.</p><p>Last chapter was pretty angsty, hey? We get more plot today &lt;3 hopefully not as much angst HAHA Thank y'all for your support!! Hope you guys like this chapter too!! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Akaashi is putting his things in his locker when he realizes that someone is staring at him. He tenses, then quickly chastises himself. There’s nothing for him to be worried about. Akaashi isn’t just another obscure face doomed to fade into the background, not like in junior high. He’s not a loser anymore, and there’s not a single person in the entire school with enough balls to come up to him and humiliate him just for the fun of it.</p><p> </p><p>Before Akaashi can properly turn around, that particular someone approaches him first. It’s just some scrawny kid with big glasses half the size of his face. He looks a little squirrelly, and Akaashi vaguely remembers him from the school band. They play at Bokuto’s games.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you?” Akaashi asks, raising a brow inquisitively. People like this glasses-kun don’t usually approach people like Akaashi very often, and at the very least not this publicly. Akaashi gives the hallway a cursory look, and, sure enough, they are already drawing a few curious stares.</p><p> </p><p>Glasses-kun kind of just stands in front of Akaashi, blocking his exit and fidgeting with his hands. He looks like he’s trying to say something, only it just won’t come out. A pang of empathy hits Akaashi like a truck, because he’s been there before, in glasses-kun’s shoes, but he flattens his expression even further and steels his resolve. This is just how high school works – this is just how <em>life</em> works. Akaashi has to be one of the winners, or he’s just going to go back to being miserable.</p><p> </p><p>“Get it out or get out of my way.” Akaashi says, carefully deleting all inflexion from his tone. He’s not going to be needlessly cruel, but he also really wants to get his point across. No way is he going to lose all the progress he’s made in these last two years over some sniveling geek with bug eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is friends with the bullies now, and he’ll do anything to keep it that way.</p><p> </p><p>Glasses-kun opens his mouth, but he’s slammed violently against the row of lockers before he can say anything. Akaashi flinches back. He remembers getting shoved into lockers, although not as harshly as this, and it really does hurt.</p><p> </p><p>“You heard him.” Futakuchi Kenji says, lips titled upwards in a smirk. He still has his hand on glasses-kun’s head, keeping him trapped against the locker. The kid is trembling now, bracing himself for another hit.</p><p> </p><p>Futakuchi is tall and built, just like all the other hockey players, with mid-length brown hair parted at the side. He’s in the varsity team even though he’s a junior, like Akaashi, and Kuroo’s mentioned that he might make Futakuchi captain when he graduates. It’s not hard to imagine it – Futakuchi already has an almost unbearable aura of easy confidence. This also means that he’ll probably become one of the most popular students next year, just like how Kuroo is now.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry for startling you, Akaashi,” Terushima Yuji says, with a grin. He’s leaning casually against the door of Akaashi’s open locker, handsome and self-assured with his dyed-blonde hair slicked back from his face.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows Terushima better than Futakuchi, since he hangs out with the seniors more often, but still not very well at all. Akaashi knows that Terushima is the son of millionaire tycoons, and it shows because he’s used to getting his way and getting out of trouble without penalty. Terushima’s also best known for throwing some of the sickest house parties when his parents are out of town – it’s why he’s so doted on by Oikawa, Kuroo and Bokuto.</p><p> </p><p>“Scram, loser.” Futakuchi hisses, right near to glasses-kun’s ear, before slamming him once more against a locker and letting go. The kid’s glasses fall to the floor in a cracked mess, but he scrambles away from them as fast as he can without stopping to pick them up.</p><p> </p><p>Futakuchi and Terushima snicker at each other, then look towards Akaashi expectantly. Akaashi’s brain stalls for a second, still distracted by the pitiful sight of glasses-kun’s glasses shattered on the floor, but he manages a soft smile. “Thanks, for getting rid of him.”</p><p> </p><p>Both boys break out in pleased smiles, and Akaashi is reminded yet again why it’s so good to be on top. Akaashi doesn’t even have to go out of his way to meet the right people, because they come up to him of their own accord. While these two may be sucking up to him now, it will be different once the seniors graduate. Akaashi will definitely be seeing more of them.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nice to see you smile, once in a while,” Futakuchi says, leaning against the very locker he’d just thrown someone against. He looks at Terushima, then back at Akaashi. “Yuji claims that you have more than the one expression, so I wanted to see it in person. I guess he’s right.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s just about to smile at them again, just to prove a point, but then a loud group of people come through the doors at the end of the hallway. Akaashi can identify Bokuto’s particular brand of rowdy in his sleep, and he picks him out of the crowd easily.</p><p> </p><p>Today, Bokuto is wearing his hair down, baseball cap turned backwards so that a tuft of grey hair sticks out the front of it. He’s wearing his varsity jacket – a staple, he would never go anywhere without it – over a tightfitting shirt and jeans, the strap of his bag hanging from atop his head. Bokuto looks goofy and very typically <em>Bokuto</em>, but he’s also talking animatedly to the pair of girls walking beside him, his hands low on their waists. Akaashi hums under his breath contemplatively.</p><p> </p><p>The one on the right, with the stylish auburn bob and rosebud mouth, is Shirofuku Yukie. She’s the captain of the cheerleading team, and almost as insatiable as Oikawa, so Akaashi knows for sure that she’s hooked up with Bokuto multiple times before Akaashi came into the picture. The other girl on the left has chest-length brown hair and short-cut bangs that only amplify her natural beauty. Misaki Hana. She’s one of Shirofuku’s girls, and Akaashi vaguely remembers hearing gossip about her recent break up.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can feel Terushima and Futakuchi looking at him, waiting for him to do something about the girls who are obviously flirting with his boyfriend. At this point, Akaashi doesn’t even sigh. He just closes his locker and calls out. “Bokuto-san.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows better than to expect Bokuto to change his flirtatious ways just because they’re in a public relationship. Bokuto has always been good at playing dumb, sticking to his role as the likeable, easy-going star athlete. But that’s all it is. An act. Bokuto covers up his tracks well when he wants to, and the school board lets him get away with many things just because he brings back shiny trophies once in a while. Akaashi can live with it, if what Bokuto is doing is just part of this persona.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto sees him and bounds over to him in an instant, shifting his bag so that is hangs from his shoulder instead. Both Shirofuku and Misaki look annoyed at the interruption, but they head off without making any extra comments. For that, Akaashi is grateful. He would hate to have to chew into them in such a public place, especially since he’s younger than them.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi!” Bokuto chirps, immediately wrapping a thick arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. The broken glasses crunch under his feet, but Bokuto doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, his intense gaze is locked on Terushima and Futakuchi. The two juniors are smart enough to take the look as a dismissal, muttering some excuses under their breath before heading off towards the cafeteria.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto has a possessive streak to him, and no one wants to be within punching range when he goes off – which is more often than Akaashi would prefer. Akaashi is just thankful that his friends are also Bokuto’s friends. Since Bokuto gets jealous so easily, he doesn’t allow Akaashi to hang around people he doesn’t know. The football player has beaten up people for far less than talking to Akaashi out of place, depending on his mood. Take Mr. fire hydrant, for example. He’d only bumped into Akaashi’s shoulder while they were walking by.</p><p> </p><p>“What did they want?” Bokuto asks, as they walk towards the cafeteria themselves. He drops his hand so that it rests around Akaashi’s waist, hooking a finger into the belt loop sewn into his jeans. “You don’t normally talk to Terushima or Futakuchi, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Someone was bothering me.” Akaashi just replies. He tries not to wince when Bokuto’s arm tightens, pulling Akaashi so close that he’s squished into his side. The material of Bokuto’s varsity jacket is soft, but under it, Bokuto’s body is hot and hard. “It wasn’t a big deal. They took care of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Bokuto says, as they join in the lunch line. He lets Akaashi go, and they each take a tray and shuffle forward with the queue. Bokuto grins, and it seems like his good mood is back. “That’s nice of them, I’ll remember that!”</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto, Akaashi.” Sugawara nods at them, gentle smile and all, and Akaashi realizes that Sugawara and Sawamura are right in front of them in the lunch line – he’d been too distracted trying not to get whiplash from Bokuto’s wild mood swings to notice. Sawamura reaches over Sugawara and Akaashi’s heads to clasp Bokuto’s hand in greeting.</p><p> </p><p>“Sugawara-san, Sawamura-san,” Akaashi nods back, face blank. The dynamics between Sugawara and Oikawa are always changing. They’re rivals, but they’re also friends. They hate each other, but sometimes they work together. And they’re always civilized to each other’s faces. The whole thing is confusing and Akaashi really wants to stop overthinking every little thing he says. “Will you be joining us for lunch today?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably not.” Sugawara chuckles lightly, fiddling with the hand Sawamura has snaked around his waist. “Oikawa’s appetite has always been small. I’m not going to make it even smaller.”</p><p> </p><p>Even just standing there together, Sugawara and Sawamura look like they’ve been made for each other. It’s how they earned their title of ‘Golden Couple’, Sendai High’s favourite senior pairing. They’re always in a close fight with Oikawa and Iwaizumi for homecoming and prom court, although they’ve never actually won. Oikawa might actually have a stroke if that happened.</p><p> </p><p>On their own, both Sugawara and Sawamura are very attractive, intelligent and contribute greatly to the community. There are rumours that they volunteer at the soup kitchen every weekend instead of going on a normal date. Together, they’ve been in a relationship for so long that they’re beyond comfortable with each other, and there has never been a single rumour that either has been unfaithful. The whole school loves them. They’re like their very own Michelle and Barack Obama.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi slides his empty tray across the serving table. Behind him, Bokuto has picked up some hotdogs with extra mustard and ketchup. In front of him, Sugawara and Sawamura’s trays are at least half filled. Akaashi scans the variety of food again, nibbling on his lip as he does so. It all just looks like oily, soggy trash.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto is already done, tray piled high with protein, and he’s watching Akaashi patiently even though he knows that they’re holding up the line. A little bubble of anxiety emerges inside Akaashi when someone makes an annoyed grunt, but they’re silenced when Bokuto turns around with an impassive stare.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, after another moment of deliberation, Akaashi reaches for a small serving of fries, some salad and a little bowl of pudding. He wants to take a burger too, but Bokuto smiles sweetly at him and pinches his soft belly, so Akaashi thinks better of it. At the end of the line, he takes a bottle of cold water instead of his usual diet coke.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that all you’re eating, Akaashi?” Sugawara asks, sounding curious. His own tray has quite a variety of food, and he leans down to take a quick sip from his overflowing cup of sprite. Sawamura is standing behind him, waiting.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m on a diet.” Akaashi just replies, with a tentative smile. Sugawara nods, grinning in understanding before heading off with his boyfriend. Akaashi looks at his retreating back longingly – Sugawara is like a breath of fresh air in this snake pit, no matter what drivel Oikawa has to say about him.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto comes up behind Akaashi, hooking an arm around his shoulders again and steering him in the direction of their usual lunch table. It’s smack in the middle of the cafeteria, so they walk by the table claimed by the juniors of the hockey team. Bokuto seems to remember what Akaashi said before, because he grins and gives a two-fingered salute to Terushima and Futakuchi as they pass through. Akaashi nods to them in acknowledgement, and they wave back.</p><p> </p><p>“You two are so late!” Oikawa whines, as they place their trays down and take their seats. His eyebags are so bad that they’re showing through his concealer. “Homecoming is less than two weeks away and I’m going crazy from all the planning. You need to <em>help</em> me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re too loud, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi grumbles. He’s lounging beside Oikawa, arm tossed carelessly around the back of his boyfriend’s chair. Kuroo is sitting on Iwaizumi’s other side, and he reaches up to fist bump Bokuto with a shark-like grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Oikawa wants to poll us about some important homecoming stuff.” Matsukawa adds, stretching out a hand to steal one of Akaashi’s already pitiful carton of fries. Next to him, Hanamaki pouts, elbows on the table. “Take one for me too, Mattsun.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi ignores them and just begins to nudge at his salad. Bokuto’s digging into his food with passion. Somehow, he’s able to swallow a hotdog in less than four bites.</p><p> </p><p>“Woah, woah, slow down there Bo,” Kuroo smirks, running a hand through his messy hair. Akaashi already knows where this is going – birds of a feather flock together, so Kuroo is also a massive flirt who can’t get his head out of the gutter. “It’s beginning to look like you receive more than you give. If you know what I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto looks at Kuroo with something hard in his eyes, something Akaashi can’t identify, and then he just shrugs. “I never bottom. Just ask Akaashi.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi stops playing with his food, because his face has become very warm very quickly and his stomach feels like its swirling with something that shouldn’t be in there. He can feel Kuroo’s eyes on him, and he can hear Oikawa stop squawking about the colour of the table runners.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi. Our baby Akaashi.” Matsukawa says, drawing out his name like he’s singing. Both he and Hanamaki rest their cheeks in their hands, giving Akaashi identical cheeky grins. It makes Akaashi even more uneasy.</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell us that you finally lost your v-card?” Hanamaki fake whispers in his deep voice, leaning even closer so that he’s half-draped over Matsukawa. “Welcome to the slut club, babe. Now we’ve all fucked Bokuto. Well, all of us except Iwaizumi.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh-” Akaashi stutters, going back to fiddling his hands under the table. Discomfort blooms inside him, big and thorny against his throat.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto takes the opportunity to spirit away the rest of Akaashi’s fries and his pudding, and Akaashi curses him in his mind. Bokuto got him in this mess, and now he won’t even say anything! The fact that Hanamaki welcomed him into their slut club – <em>no thanks</em> – has also obviously pissed Bokuto off, too, which is troublesome. Bokuto really likes the fact that Akaashi is his and only his, that no one else has been with Akaashi like he has. There’s no doubt that Bokuto is actually triggered now.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi takes a cursory look around the table and is dismayed to find that everyone seems interested to know more. Only Kuroo isn’t looking at him, choosing instead to frown at Bokuto. Probably for the way the running back is chomping down on his food like he’s been starving for three days.</p><p> </p><p>They’re really not going to let him off until he says something, so Akaashi just gives in. He has to play it casual to placate Bokuto. “It’s normal right? I mean, Bokuto-san is my first boyfriend, yet he’s so experienced. It would’ve happened sooner or later.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so proud of you, Aka-chan, you’re all grown up now,” Oikawa croons from across the table. There’s a steely edge to his voice, and the way both Matsukawa and Hanamaki back down because of it reminds Akaashi of a lion snapping its jaws at a pair of hyenas. He feels a shiver run down his back – he needs to divert everyone’s attention back to Oikawa, or there’s probably going to be a nasty rumour about him tomorrow.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s really nothing. Let’s just go back to planning for homecoming.” Akaashi says, giving the table a tight-lipped smile. He forcefully shovels a cherry tomato into his mouth and tries not to gag. “What were you saying about the table runners, Oikawa-san?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. After (3) - The Bleachers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone!! I'm glad you guys liked the previous chapter :D I'm here to deliver more!</p><p>Always keep the warnings in mind!! I hope you enjoy this one too &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Akaashi reluctantly steps out of his father’s car with his schoolbag in hand. His mother, comfortable and warm in the passenger seat, stops reading the news for a second to wish Akaashi a good first day back to school. Both of them look like him – little to no facial expression, dark hair and heavily hooded eyes all run in the family – so it’s almost like looking at a future Akaashi really doesn’t want.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi waves halfheartedly as his parents drive away. They used to drop him off to school every day before heading to city hall for work, yet it feels odd now after such a long winter break - one curtesy of the extensive renovation works on Sendai High School. Fixing up the cafeteria after the big fire, as well as covering up all the wayward bullet marks, are sufficient enough excuses for the school board to delay the start of term till just a week after the new year.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo, on the other hand, ever the slave driver, returned to hockey practice the moment the new year passed. The whole team was called in, but returning to their normal practice schedule didn't mean that Kuroo wouldn't acknowledge what happened.</p><p> </p><p>"Sendai High has always had, and will always have, a powerhouse hockey team." Kuroo said, at the beginning of their first training since the shooting. Akaashi sat a few rows behind the team, just to provide some support. Miya Atsumu and Terushima Yuji showed up too, both recently discharged from the hospital. Kuroo then made sure to look all his players, his teammates and friends, in the eyes. "We've lost some of our best players, and we will continue to mourn them, but that's no reason for our lives to stutter to a stop. We've been dealt a great blow with hockey season weeks away, but we are <em>not</em> going to let it stop us. We're going to train, and we're going to train so fucking hard that those other teams won't know what hit them!"</p><p> </p><p>There were claps and cheers before one by one, the boys slid onto the ice. Kuroo mussed up Atsumu's hair as he walked by him, while Terushima lounged in his chair with longing clear in his gaze.</p><p> </p><p>Spirit and gumption are not the only things that make up a winning team, however, so Kuroo has doubled up practices and extended their hours on the rink. What is most inhumane about it - and Akaashi has definitely let Kuroo know - is that they have early morning sessions now, too, since the rink is cheaper during the odd hours of the day. Which means that none of them will be in school till later.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is suddenly struck with uncertainty. Bokuto is usually here, waiting for Akaashi. He’ll take Akaashi’s bag in his big hand and pull him close, and then they’ll walk to the bleachers and make out before class. Akaashi grits his teeth at the memory, pulling his knit sweater tighter around himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about Bokuto like that. Bokuto shot people. He set Sugawara on fire, killed Matsukawa and Osamu. He hurt people. He doesn’t deserve to be remembered fondly.</p><p> </p><p>But without Bokuto, Akaashi is also very alone.</p><p> </p><p>It becomes especially apparent when Akaashi turns away from the road to head into school. He almost decides to run away right then and there.</p><p> </p><p>While Akaashi is early, there are still people loitering around. They’re all kind of looking at him, whispering to their friends or typing on their phones as Akaashi passes by. It's obvious that they are all talking about him, thinking about him and everything they've heard about the shooting, and it's daunting. But Akaashi also knows that running away now will only make things worse. He can't afford to show any hint of weakness, or the masses will swoop in and devour like the vultures they are - it's one thing he's learned in his time as Oikawa's friend.</p><p> </p><p>So Akaashi takes a deep, calming breath as he lengthens his strides and straightens his back, continuing to walk deeper into the building as though there's nothing out of the ordinary. It's a good thing his face is usually so impassive. It makes it that much easier to pretend that everything is okay.</p><p> </p><p>Slipping his phone out of his pocket, Akaashi opens his chat with Hanamaki and Oikawa. They used to have one with Matsukawa too, but there’s no point using anymore it if it’s just going to dig up memories they would all rather forget.</p><p> </p><p>[06:44] Akaashi: Where are you?</p><p> </p><p>There’s no answer for a second, but Hanamaki comes online so Akaashi waits for the reply. In a way, he's just trying to avoid looking up. Maybe it’s the fear of seeing ridicule in his peers’ eyes, or maybe it's his way of dealing with being back here, in the place he almost died. Akaashi doesn't dwell further on his thoughts, instead trusting his feet to carry him through the mostly abandoned hallways.</p><p> </p><p>[06:46] Makki: it’s the asscrack of dawn</p><p> </p><p>[06:46] Makki: why tf r u always so early</p><p> </p><p>[06:47] Makki: Oikawa, get ready. driving over now.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi rolls his eyes. Hanamaki knows why he’s early. He’s been early his entire high school life. Hanamaki’s the one who’s always diving into class right before the bell rings. Akaashi already knows that, too, but he texted them anyway. Distractions. His phone buzzes again.</p><p> </p><p>[06:50] Tooru: getting antsy, Aka-chan? (✿ &gt;‿◠)</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi grumbles under his breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have texted them. It’s out of character, and has only made him easy to read. He’s about to put away his phone, but it lights up before he can slip it back into his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>[06:50] Tooru: yay Makki!! ♡〜٩( ˃́▿˂̀ )۶〜♡</p><p> </p><p>[06:50] Tooru: can’t wait for my knight in shining armor to carry me into class!</p><p> </p><p>[06:51] Tooru: we’ll be there soon so hang on, Aka-chan! ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ</p><p>                                              </p><p>[06:51] Makki: are you hitting on me? cuz that's gross, fam</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi shakes his head, feeling his lips curl upwards involuntarily. Oikawa is so much more pleasant now than he had been before. It must be because he's still trying to make it up to Akaashi for spilling the beans to Iwaizumi. Sure, it might not be Akaashi's place to step between Oikawa and Iwaizumi. It's their relationship, and he doesn't care about that. But Oikawa didn't have to say anything about Akaashi too. Not many people are privy to his personal life, and Akaashi would really like to keep it that way.</p><p> </p><p>The fact that Oikawa is getting increasingly touch-starved by the day might also be a contributing factor to his newfound ability to be nice. The brunette had been hooking up daily before the shooting, but it's almost like he's become celibate now that his leg is wrapped in a cast and his boyfriend has become an ex.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi still isn’t talking to Oikawa, and Akaashi completely understands why. It hadn’t just been Oikawa who betrayed him, it had been <em>all</em> of them. All of them kept Oikawa’s infidelity from Iwaizumi, all of them played a part in deceiving him. Iwaizumi had been played a fool for years, and that kind of betrayal doesn’t get all better just from an apology.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is yanked back to reality when he hears something shuffling behind him. There's no buffer between that and the feeling of something hard coming into contact with the back of his head. It lights up in pain; his senses screaming at him all at once. <em>Hurt. Danger. Run. Don't fight.</em></p><p> </p><p>Even knowing what’s happening to him, Akaashi is stunned from the surprise blow and he can’t react, can’t move his limbs fast enough; stumbling and falling over on all fours. His phone slips out of his hand in the process, but Akaashi doesn't have the awareness to care. It feels almost like his head is cracking open, like there might be blood spurting out of it, but Akaashi knows better. He’s no stranger to pain, and he’s definitely hit his head harder than this and come out intact.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi groans softly, propping himself up on his hands. He’s learnt long ago not to make too much noise, even when he’s hurting. Especially when he’s hurting. It only makes the hurt last longer.</p><p> </p><p>The mystery attacker delivers a hard kick to Akaashi’s midriff before he can focus on identifying his face, and Akaashi rolls over from the impact. The pain is a familiar sting. Akaashi curls into himself as he tries to swallow his nausea. Bokuto used to kick him right there, to make him throw up his breakfast, and it brings back a fresh wave of memories.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you want to be with me?” Bokuto used to ask, usually standing over him. “You need to be beautiful if you want to be with me, Akaashi.”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s eyes were always large and bright, but there had been something else in them. Something cold and alien. He would grab Akaashi by the scruff of his neck, forcing him over the toilet bowl. Then Akaashi would watch as his body, so used to following Bokuto’s every whim, threw up everything he’d eaten.</p><p> </p><p>But that was then, and Bokuto is dead.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you hit him too hard?” A voice says, sounding worried. There is more shuffling, and Akaashi can tell, through his watering eyes, that there are a few people gathering. There’s more than one attacker – they’re working together. It sounds like they’re not used to judging their strength, either.</p><p> </p><p>“I can hit him harder.” Another voice replies, sounding incensed.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi frowns, coughing and trying really hard not to let his body slip back into old bad habits. He doesn’t recognize any of these voices, and he doesn’t know why he’s being attacked. Revenge for the shooting, possibly. There are many people who blame Akaashi and Kuroo for it, people who refuse to believe that Bokuto was anything but an all-star athlete who had been wronged and stressed to the point of rupture.</p><p> </p><p>Two pairs of footsteps approach, quickly, and then Akaashi has to bite his lip to keep himself from yelping. It’s January, the middle of winter, and these assholes just dumped a bucket load of water on him. Akaashi's clothes are soaked through in an instant, the chill settling in his bones even as he gasps quick, panicked breaths that do nothing but freeze the length of his windpipe. The water was a shock, but the wind feels like icicles jamming themselves into his skin.</p><p> </p><p>Someone grabs Akaashi by his hair, yanking his head up so that he’s looking his attackers face-to-face. Akaashi almost lets out a hysterical giggle, but he chokes it down in time. He doesn’t recognise any of them – not even a single one of their faces looks remotely familiar.</p><p> </p><p>“You used to come here every morning with Bokuto Koutarou.” One of them says, stepping forward and spitting in his face like he’s trying to be intimidating. He says Bokuto’s name like he’s disgusted it came out of his mouth. “I can’t believe you're actually stupid enough to come back after what he did. Do you mourn him? Do you miss him? You’re as much of a monster as he is.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is taken aback for a second. He hadn’t even realised that his feet led him straight to his and Bokuto's daily meetup spot. It’s another bad habit Akaashi needs to break.</p><p> </p><p>“Seems like you enjoyed watching us, stalker.” Akaashi says through chattering teeth. He raises his eyebrows mockingly and is rewarded with a hard slap to his face. It’s strong, stronger than Akaashi expected, and he has to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Slut!” Another person screams shrilly. It’s a girl, further towards the back of the group. “You’re a whore and you’re nothing without Bokuto! You and your horrible group of friends need to be taught a lesson.”</p><p> </p><p>Someone else joins in, and soon enough they’re all shouting at him about all the times he had been the silent observer of their horrible high school years. Bokuto bullied me, Bokuto shoved me, Bokuto hurt me, and it was because of you, because I talked to you, because you just stood there, because you didn’t stop him. The words all jumble together like a whirlpool of teenage angst, and Akaashi’s fear morphs into disgust.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re all fucking delusional.” Akaashi snaps, cutting through their spiel. There’s something like rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach, spurring him on. They all look shocked, like they never expected a rebuttal. They’ve probably never fought back once in their lives. “How do you expect me to remember every single person Bokuto-san bullied? I don’t know who any of you are! Your problem is with Bokuto-san, not <em>me</em>. So go take it up with him instead.”</p><p> </p><p>This seems to infuriate all of them, but at this point Akaashi doesn’t care. He’s angry too. Fuck these people, and fuck Bokuto. Akaashi doesn’t want to be collateral damage in whatever revenge plot they’re trying to enact on his ex-boyfriend. They’ve only grown a pair now that Bokuto is dead, and they’re only standing up to him because they outnumber him ten to one.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can accept it if they were hurting him because of the shooting. He’s still blaming himself for it, and the punishment would be welcome, but they’re <em>not</em> doing that. They’re trying to enact some sort of messed-up social revolution, a twisted uprising that isn’t going to work just because they managed to corner Akaashi. He’s not Marie Antoinette under the guillotine, and the world isn’t going to change just because Bokuto went and shot up their school.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you!” The first boy, the creep who watched Akaashi and Bokuto being intimate, growls. He pulls his fist back. Akaashi closes his eyes, bracing for the punch. The fact that they’re all desperate bottom-feeders doesn’t mean that it’s going to hurt any less.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s going on here?”</p><p> </p><p>The voice - the first familiar one of the morning - cuts through the tension without much effort, and Akaashi has never been so glad to hear that leering tone in his life.</p><p> </p><p>When Akaashi opens his eyes, it's easy to spot Kuroo on the other side of the mob. The hockey captain is at least a head taller than any single one of them, and his gaze is passive as he scans their faces. Then, Kuroo's eyes land on Akaashi, soaking wet and kneeling to relieve the pressure on his scalp, and his entire demeanor changes.</p><p> </p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>… do you all think you’re doing?” Kuroo snarls. His voice is shaking from anger, and Akaashi’s attackers slowly back away as he steps closer into the group. Akaashi can see the curious faces of the rest of the hockey team behind Kuroo, and a wave of relief washes over him. Kuroo’s not alone. He may be strong, but there are more than ten people here.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone has frozen still, maybe in shock that they're being interrupted here, in a secluded corner behind the bleachers. Out of patience, Kuroo grabs the nearest person and punches them in the face. The boy’s head snaps back with a painful sounding crunch – his nose is definitely broken. <em>That</em> definitely gets people to move, and Akaashi is dropped unceremoniously back onto the ground as his attackers try to flee. Cowards.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the hockey team gets the idea. They’ve come straight from the nearby rink. Their hockey sticks are still in their hands, their blood is pumping, and they’re itching for something more than frustratingly legal checks on the ice. The fight sounds very one-sided, but Akaashi doesn’t pay attention to it because he’s shaking like crazy and it feels like he’s inhaling ice.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?” Kuroo asks as he kneels down next to Akaashi, a full one-eighty change from before. He runs his bloodied knuckles against Akaashi’s cheek. “Jesus, Akaashi, you’re fucking freezing.”</p><p> </p><p>“They d-dumped water on me.” Akaashi explains, struggling to get his stiff muscles to remove his clothing. He makes it halfway through the buttons of his sweater, before Kuroo takes over for him with warm, calloused hands. He does it so much quicker, but that’s because he can actually feel his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Once Akaashi’s sweater and his undershirt are tossed to the side, Kuroo shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around Akaashi’s shoulders. The hockey captain stands, wrapping an arm around Akaashi and pulling him to his feet. He feels a little warmer already, pulled close to Kuroo’s body heat.</p><p> </p><p>Pure pettiness pushes Akaashi to kick one of his downed attackers in the chest as he hobbles by. It’s not a hard kick by any means, because his legs are still shaking like crazy, but it’s good enough.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi, I think this is yours.” Terushima says, eyebrows pulled together as he slips Akaashi’s phone into his trembling hands. For once, he’s not smiling or joking around. He actually looks worried, and maybe it’s because Akaashi’s lips and nose feel like they’re about to fall off.</p><p> </p><p>Futakuchi is standing a little ways behind Terushima, digging his hockey stick into an attacker's abdomen and looking anywhere but at Akaashi. Miya Atsumu’s face is set in stone as he drives the sole of his shoe into another boy’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“You bitch!” Someone screeches. It’s the girl from before. She isn’t hurt, just curled up against the fencing. She’s crying, whilst trying to glare at them, but Akaashi can’t dig up even an ounce of empathy for her. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill the both of you!”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s arms tighten around Akaashi, but Atsumu is faster. The slap rings out in the frigid air, and the girl’s eyes go wide in shock as she cups her cheek in her hand. Atsumu’s mouth is downturned at the sides, and his voice is as icy as the temperature. “Don’t joke about death like that.”</p><p> </p><p>Satisfied with Atsumu’s reaction, Kuroo nods at him. He takes a sweeping look at all the people who attacked Akaashi – they’re all on the floor in some form or another, cowed and thoroughly defeated. Akaashi knows he should feel some sympathy for them, but he doesn’t. They all disgust him, in ways he never thought he could ever feel about human beings. By targeting Akaashi while they knew he was alone and vulnerable, they stooped to Bokuto's level. They’re monsters in their own right for going one step further and threatening to end Akaashi and Kuroo's lives.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re sorely mistaken if you think some bullshit shooting changes anything,” Kuroo’s voice comes out in low rumble, almost like a growl. He’s addressing everyone, now, but he hugs Akaashi even closer when his shivers grow more violent. “I remember your faces now. If I see any of you bothering Akaashi again, you’re not going to get off with just a few bruises.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi may be numb and freezing, but the words cut a path of warmth through to his heart. He tightens his hold on Kuroo, as much as he can without feeling like his hands may shatter into shards of ice, and Kuroo squeezes back gently.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Before (3) - The Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello :) This is one of my favourite chapters of everything I've written so far. I'm excited for you guys to read it! 'Green Eyes' is already at its last chapter so I'll be concentrating on this story after it's done :D</p><p>Please always take note of the warnings!! There's also mentions of eating disorders in this story, I think I forgot to include it in the warnings for the first chapter but it's definitely in the tags. But yes. Please be careful and DO NOT read on if you think you'll get triggered by any of the warnings.</p><p>Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The Terushima family house is a huge mansion – five stories, twenty-four bedrooms, a giant kitchen with a beautiful marble counter, and a long infinity pool that looks over a charming hillside. It’s all themed to chic modern neutral tones, accented with marble when possible and complemented by a dash of colour from some avant-garde artwork hanging on the walls.</p><p> </p><p>As usual, Akaashi arrives with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and Hanamaki.</p><p> </p><p>As usual, they are fashionably late and the party is already in full swing when they ring the doorbell. Hanamaki punches the button in a playful, albeit irritatingly childish, tone and the large oaken front door opens without much of a delay.</p><p> </p><p>“The cavalry's here,” Terushima slurs, leaning against the doorframe as he salutes them with two fingers. He stumbles slightly on his feet, already half-drunk. “The refreshments are in the kitchen, the weed is in the arcade room, and the rooms are free to be used to your heart’s content – as long as they’re unlocked.” He pauses, thinks for a second, and then says quite soberly: “Please don’t touch the paintings.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, Teru-chan, we know the drill.” Oikawa smiles, all serpentine. He pats their host on the head as he waltzes into the house. Iwaizumi follows after, shouldering past Terushima with a carelessly thrown glare.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima watches with wide eyes as the couple disappears up the stairway. He turns back to them, looking a little panicked. “Did I do something-?”</p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchange an undecipherable look. They’re never ones to miss an opportunity to make someone suffer, so Matsukawa only shrugs. Hanamaki, ever the flirt, leans in close enough to Terushima that their breaths intermingle, and then steals their host's drink right out of his hand. “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Matsukawa rolls his eyes and heads in too, hooking his hand around Hanamaki’s elbow and pulling him towards the living room. As he takes a sip of his newly acquired drink, Hanamaki sends Terushima a wink before they, too, merge into the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>Left in the dust, Terushima turns back around to blink slowly at Akaashi. He looks so dazed - nothing like his usual, cocksure self - that Akaashi can't help but chuckle into his hand. Terushima's eyes widen at the sound, cheeks flushing an even darker red. He must be embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, Akaashi," Terushima grins, averting his eyes as he ushers Akaashi into his home. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home."</p><p> </p><p>As Akaashi steps into the house, he places a reassuring hand on Terushima’s shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Oikawa and Iwaizumi had a fight. They'll be fine once they use one of the rooms."</p><p> </p><p>It's amusing how terrified Terushima is of Iwaizumi. It should be enough of a deterrent, a big warning sign telling him to back off Oikawa while he still can, but it doesn't seem to be enough. It really goes to show which brain Terushima favours, since he's still hooking up with Oikawa. His self-preservation instincts are all but dead as compared to the need to get his rocks off.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, right,” Terushima nods as he closes the door behind them. Akaashi shrugs off his jacket. The nights are starting to get colder, but Terushima’s house is heated like a furnace. It doesn’t help that the entire living area is filled with drunk dancing people.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want a drink, Akaashi? I’ll get you one,” Terushima offers, grinning brightly. His hand is warm where is rests on the small of Akaashi’s back, guiding him towards the kitchen, and his tongue piercing glints under the dim mood lighting.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s alright, I should find Bokuto-san first.” Akaashi replies, feeling a little worried. Bokuto hates it when Akaashi wanders off alone at a party. He usually sticks right by Akaashi’s side the whole time, so he’ll definitely be mad if he finds out that Akaashi didn’t go looking for him.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima stops in his tracks, retracting his hand to card it through his blonde hair. There’s an uncomfortable look on his face. “Right. Good luck finding him! I’ll just be- just be getting a new drink.”</p><p> </p><p>Weird. Akaashi nods at Terushima, face back to a blank slate, and then he turns and decides to venture around the ground floor of the mansion. He’ll end up bumping into Bokuto eventually, if he combs through all the rooms one by one.</p><p> </p><p>The living area is a bust – there are way too many people grinding on each other, and the speakers are turned up to the max so Akaashi can feel the music vibrating in his bones and rattling his brain. The arcade smells strongly of weed, so Akaashi doesn’t even try to enter. Bokuto's very persistently keeping himself clean for any surprise drug tests, so he won't be in there. His scholarships are very important to him, after all, and losing them is the last thing he wants. The kitchen is filled with stacks of drinks and not many people, while the other guest rooms and bathrooms on the ground floor are all locked.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi heads out to the infinity pool next. It’s a nice break from the stifling heat, and he finds Kuroo and the rest of the hockey team monopolizing the beer pong tables. There are a few football players lounging around on the deck chairs, but none of them know where Bokuto is. Frustrated, Akaashi blows a puff of air out of his mouth. He needs a break. All he’s been doing is looking for Bokuto, when he should be having fun too.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi walks back into the house, taking out his phone as he climbs the steps to the second floor. Akaashi’s getting anxious. His friends are all likely occupied, and he’s not very sure where to go or what to do. Akaashi is used to following them or Bokuto around.</p><p> </p><p>[21:53] Akaashi: Bokuto-san, I can’t find you.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi reads the text again, then slips his phone back in his pocket. That will have to do for now. Once he sits down for a while and regains his bearings, he’ll go find Hanamaki and Matsukawa. Or maybe he’ll just get a drink and go sit by the pool for a comparatively more peaceful time. Yes. That sounds nice.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has never really been a people-person, but he knows that staying in his comfort zone is just going to make him a target. It’s better this way, even if he feels uncomfortable from time to time. He’s worked hard to get here. Now he just needs to stay at the top, where he won’t be bothered.</p><p> </p><p>After trying the whole second-floor hallway, Akaashi feels like giving up. They’re all locked shut, and he’s heard enough moaning to last an entire lifetime. He sighs, then starts climbing the stairs to the third floor. If it doesn’t work out again, he’ll just go back down, try to avoid as many people as possible, and get a drink to soothe his anxiety.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi pushes down on the first doorknob he sees, and it gives way. Finally.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling better about his situation, Akaashi pushes the door open a little wider and stops dead in his tracks. He’s wrong – the room is occupied. There are two people on the bed, their bodies tangled in the white sheets. Akaashi’s about to retreat, glad that he hasn't been noticed, but then the groans reach his ears and his hair stands on end. He freezes.</p><p> </p><p>It can’t be.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi squints, trying to see into the dark room, and he immediately regrets it. The light filtering in from behind him lights up familiar salt-and-pepper hair, done up in two horns, above a muscular back. Akaashi grabs the doorknob harder, feeling his stomach churn and his mind go into overdrive.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto thrusts aggressively into the person below him, sweat dotting his back. There are already used condoms littering the floor. When Bokuto shifts, grabbing a soft thigh and hooking it over his shoulder, Akaashi catches a glimpse of the other person’s face.</p><p> </p><p>Shirofuku Yukie moans lewdly, eyes scrunched shut and eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. Akaashi feels like he’s frozen in place. Shirofuku Yukie? Akaashi remembers all the times he’s seen Bokuto talking to her in school, laughing and touching her with familiarity. How long has this been going on?</p><p> </p><p>It’s then that Shirofuku opens her eyes. Akaashi doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, maybe a shocked gasp, or Shirofuku trying to cover up her bare breasts – breasts that Bokuto’s hands are kneading into like lumps of dough. She doesn’t do any of that, and Akaashi almost breaks the doorknob because Shirofuku simply sneers at him from under Bokuto and pulls Akaashi’s <em>boyfriend</em> into a deep kiss like she’s staking a claim.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi slams the door shut and sprints down the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>His heart feels numb, and his hands and legs are tingling. There’s jealousy, anger, sadness all swirling in him like a brewing storm, and he feels feverish - like he's had too many to drink even though he hasn't even started. The cocktail of emotions makes Akaashi feel like throwing himself off a cliff.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has always worried that this would happen. It's why he finally let Bokuto take his virginity. If Akaashi can give Bokuto everything he needs, then there’s no reason for Bokuto to stray – but obviously, he’d been wrong thinking that way.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto isn’t satisfied with him, with <em>just</em> him, and yet he bars Akaashi from other people like they carry the plague. Is he scared that Akaashi will treat him the way he’s treating Akaashi? Bokuto isn’t even chasing after him. He probably doesn’t even know, doesn’t even care that Akaashi walked in on him banging some other girl.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t know anymore. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't even know what to think. It feels like his head is about to explode, like his heart is already shattered irreparably.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, Akaashi, you okay?” It’s Futakuchi. He’s leaning against the stairway bannister, expression concerned. One of his hands is resting on Akaashi’s shoulder, and it’s shaking him gently.</p><p> </p><p>"I- Bokuto-" Akaashi starts, unable to continue. His mouth is too dry, and saying it aloud makes things feel more real. His eyes are wet. he reaches up to brush the tears away, which coerces a sigh from Futakuchi.</p><p> </p><p>“I take that as a no.” The taller junior grimaces, slipping his hand around the crook of Akaashi’s elbow to pull him close. He steers them away from the staircase and into the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi lets himself melt into Futakuchi. It’s nice to have someone, anyone, around him. Futakuchi is warm and strong and comforting, and for now Akaashi just needs someone to be there for him while he deals with his shock.</p><p> </p><p>Futakuchi pulls away momentarily to pour some jungle juice into a cup, but he’s back quickly, hand around Akaashi’s waist as he offers him the drink.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” Akaashi says, grabbing the drink and chugging it like it’s a lifeline. He wants to feel numb. Being drunk out of his mind sounds like a rather effective Plan B.</p><p> </p><p>Futakuchi only observes as the alcohol disappears in a flash, and then he wordlessly pours more into Akaashi’s cup. Akaashi takes it gratefully, drinking half of it and setting it down. His stomach is still reeling from when he’d thrown up his dinner before this. Thrown up for Bokuto, to be nice and pretty and skinny for Bokuto. The memory brings a fresh wave of tears that Akaashi tries to blink away. He fails.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, I wasn’t talking about this when I said I wanted to see what other expressions you can make.” Futakuchi says, sounding a little amused when Akaashi hiccups. He reaches forward to brush the tears off Akaashi’s flushed cheeks, but even that action seems too much, too soon.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry. I just- I don’t know why I’m like this.” Akaashi mutters, stepping away from Futakuchi and rubbing clumsily at his cheeks. Futakuchi’s touch is light and kind, but Akaashi’s mind is suddenly feeling very foggy and he really wants to sit down. He’s not drunk, it can’t be. He’s only had one and a half drinks, and he usually has at least ten before he feels like he can’t stand on his own anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi.” Futakuchi says, his arm tightening around Akaashi’s waist, and Akaashi finds it weird that he hadn’t even realized it had still been there. Futakuchi draws him even nearer, looping both his arms around Akaashi so that their chests are flush against each other. Akaashi squirms, but even he knows that he’s weaker than normal. Futakuchi doesn’t budge an inch, only looking down at Akaashi sympathetically. “Akaashi, I know you saw Bokuto and Shirofuku together. They’ve been hooking up every weekend.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi stops, and even in his hazy mind he still acknowledges Futakuchi’s words. “What.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to be with him.” Futakuchi leans down, and then his lips are brushing against Akaashi’s. Akaashi rears back as far as he can go, away from the kiss, but Futakuchi’s arms are like metal bars pulling him in close and tight. Futakuchi frowns when Akaashi keeps shaking his head, but he pulls back. “Why are you still so loyal to him? Bokuto doesn’t care about you, he’s been cheating on you the whole time.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi thinks about that for a while, trying to make sense of the words, but he’s distracted when Futakuchi lifts him up by his waist and sets him down on the countertop. The hockey player stands against the counter, settling between Akaashi’s legs, and he cups Akaashi’s face in his hands. “Akaashi, come be with me. I would never cheat on you, not like Bokuto. I’ll always treasure you.”</p><p> </p><p>And then Futakuchi leans in for another kiss.</p><p> </p><p>This time, he doesn't allow Akaashi to turn away. Futakuchi's lips are hot and wet, and they work against Akaashi’s before he pushes in with tongue. Akaashi’s whimpers are muffled by Futakuchi’s mouth. While he’s trying his best, pushing weak hands against Futakuchi’s chest, Akaashi isn't gaining any headway. It’s like all the strength had been sucked out of him, and Futakuchi doesn’t even seem to realise that Akaashi is struggling against him.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop-” Akaashi tries to say, when Futakuchi draws back for air, but it’s weak and smothered when Futakuchi dives back in. The other junior is getting bolder, taking one hand off Akaashi’s face to hug Akaashi against him.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi tries to kick his legs, but they’re hanging off the counter uselessly. His arms have lost what little strength they had left, and his vision looks distorted; like the world around him is slow and glitchy. All Akaashi can feel is the unbearable heat of the hockey player pressed against him, and the growing hardness between Futakuchi's legs rubbing against his thigh.</p><p> </p><p>It seems all too soon and all too late at the same time when Futakuchi is ripped away from his spot between Akaashi’s legs.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi blinks up at a fuming Kuroo, who looks like he has three heads. The Miya twins are behind him, holding onto Futakuchi by his shoulders, but they’re all blurry too. The world kind of tips to one side, and then there are rough hands holding him up. Kuroo’s barking something at Futakuchi. “What the fuck did you give him?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t really know what’s happening, so he tries to get off the counter. The only thing is that he’s forgotten that his legs are like jelly now, and he would have crumpled to the ground had Kuroo’s arms not been there to support him.</p><p> </p><p>“And you!” Kuroo sounds very angry, even though he feels very comfortable at the moment. Akaashi tilts his head to look around Kuroo, and he sees Matsukawa hiding halfway behind the fridge. “Isn’t he your friend? Why didn’t you help him?”</p><p> </p><p>Matsukawa looks at Akaashi with big, nonchalant eyes and shrugs. It looks like the world is glitching out again, because Matsukawa shrugs three more times. “I thought he was having fun.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi blinks, the world fading to dark for a long moment. When he opens his eyes again, Terushima is there, looking into Akaashi’s unfocused gaze with worry. Kuroo is yelling at Futakuchi again. “Go cool the fuck down, Futakuchi.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck off, captain.” Futakuchi retaliates, struggling against Osamu and Atsumu. They’re stronger than him and far less intoxicated, so he doesn’t get out of their grip. “He was into it.”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima goes to Futakuchi’s side and places a warning hand on his chest. Akaashi has never seen Terushima this serious. “Just go. You’re lucky the captain found you, and not Bokuto.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi blinks, and then he knows there must be something wrong with him because he’s not in the bright kitchen anymore. He’s lying in one of the lounge chairs outside, next to the pool. There’s a glass of water on the table, and Akaashi feels really thirsty all of a sudden so he takes it and drinks all of it. Kuroo looks up from his phone, face bright from the faint glow of the screen, his eyes narrowed at Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi blinks, and then he’s lying down on something soft and warm. He looks up, and Kuroo looks down at him. They’re on the floor, by the pool, and it’s quiet here save for the lapping of water and stray noises from the party. Everything is dark around them, lit only by starlight. Akaashi tries to move his hand, but he realizes that it’s interlocked with Kuroo’s.</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo-san, are you mad at me?” Akaashi asks, mind cottony and speech slurred. He can’t see Kuroo’s face now, but he knows he looked angry back in the kitchen. There’s something itching his cheek, so he scratches at it with his free hand. It comes away sticky, and Akaashi suddenly realizes how sore his eyes are. Tear tracks. He must have been crying.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo is silent for a moment, but Akaashi can feel his fingers flexing against his own. “…No. I’m not mad at you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s long fingers comb through Akaashi’s hair, and it’s the most soothing thing Akaashi has ever felt. He relaxes against the touch, the most content he has been in months. But somehow, it also feels like he’s forgetting something important, something his foggy mind doesn’t want him to remember.</p><p> </p><p>There’s the sound of stomping feet coming nearer, and Akaashi only gets a glimpse of Bokuto’s very furious expression before there’s a hand clamped around Akaashi’s arm. Bokuto tears him away from Kuroo, but Akaashi’s legs are still very jelly-like so he crashes into the ground with a muffled whimper. Bokuto’s fingers dig into his arm painfully, holding him up at an awkward angle.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi, what the fuck? Get up!” Bokuto growls, yanking at Akaashi again, but Akaashi’s whole body hurts now, and his knees feel like they’re on fire. “I tell you to stay away from other guys, and then I find you lying on my best friend’s lap. What the fuck is this, Kuroo?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto, stop it! Just, fuck-” Kuroo’s there too, now, grabbing Bokuto’s arm, and Bokuto is distracted so Akaashi curls into a ball. His knees feel sticky now, too. When Akaashi pulls his palm up to his face, he sees it stained red. They're bleeding.</p><p> </p><p>“This better be good.” Bokuto huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He sounds put off, and even half out of his mind, Akaashi knows that Bokuto is the worst when he’s in a bad mood. “You know I don’t like it when people touch what’s mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“He found out, okay?” Kuroo says, and Bokuto freezes, looking down at Akaashi with wide eyes. Akaashi can’t help but flinch, rolling over on his side so he’s facing the water and not Bokuto’s air force ones. “He walked in on you and Yukie, and then he got roofied when he was wandering around alone. He’s still out of it, so I’ve been staying by him to <em>protect </em>him.”</p><p> </p><p>They exchange more words, some harsh and some apologetic, but Akaashi’s kind of out of it again. He feels thirsty, but then he finished all his water back when they were at the lounge chairs. Akaashi stares at Terushima’s infinity pool, all turquoise and calm in front of him, and wonders if it’s a good idea to drink pool water. He dips his palm in and watches the red disperse into little streams, like a starburst ad but with the flavour coming from his fingers instead of candy.</p><p> </p><p>Warm, gentle hands bring him back, and Akaashi blinks up at Bokuto. His eyes are big and sad, and his entire demeanor is different from when he’d first arrived. Bokuto is always like this, bouncing back and forth without warning. It’s hard to keep up.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you, you know that right? I would do anything for you. It was just a mistake.” Bokuto pulls him close, into his lap, and his warmth envelops Akaashi like a familiar blanket. He peppers chaste kisses all over Akaashi’s face, desperation evident. “I was really stressed, and I drank too much, and I know it’s not really an excuse but I really didn’t mean to.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi mulls over the words, his thoughts still disjointed, but it seems the silence is too much for his boyfriend.</p><p> </p><p>“Please say something, Akaashi. I love you. I love you so much, more than anyone else.” Bokuto cries, and Akaashi takes a moment to realize that he’s <em>actually</em> crying. Tears drip down his face, reflecting the light like little pearls, and Akaashi opens his mouth because maybe he can’t drink pool water, but he can probably drink tear water. Bokuto's expression turns hopeful, eyes big and pleading in a way Akaashi has never been able to resist. It hurts something inside Akaashi, to see Bokuto this way, so he reaches up to cup Bokuto's jaw.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't cry," Akaashi says simply. He rubs his thumb against Bokuto's cheek, leaving watery red smeared on Bokuto's face.</p><p> </p><p>"Akaashi," Bokuto whispers, pulling Akaashi's hand away from his face and tangling their fingers together. His hands are thicker than the ones from before, pressing harder against Akaashi's limp fingers like he can keep them linked with sheer strength.</p><p> </p><p>They seem to sit there for what feels like an eternity. Bokuto keeps murmuring that he loves Akaashi, over and over again. He pats Akaashi on the head, smoothing curls under his calloused hands. It’s only when Akaashi’s just about to drift off into sleep that Bokuto wipes his tears away and stands up with Akaashi still wrapped in his arms.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is glad for it, and he sleepily snuggles against Bokuto’s chest. Bokuto seems to be happy that he did that, because his arms move to hug Akaashi even closer.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto is strong, Bokuto is his boyfriend. And it feels good even though deep down, Akaashi knows why Bokuto smells different even though he’s wearing one of his favourite hoodies.</p><p> </p><p>As Bokuto starts climbing the stairs back to the main house, Akaashi spares a glance back at Kuroo. He’s sitting in one of the lounge chairs by the pool, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped under his chin.</p><p> </p><p>It’s too dark to see the look on his face.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. After (4) - The Station</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! We have even more plot this time!! I know a lot of you are wondering about Kuroo and Akaashi. Don't worry, we'll address that in the chapters to come :)</p><p>Thanks for all the really encouraging comments!! I have way too many assignments to do but I'm really enjoying writing this story ^^" Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it too much.” Kuroo says, hand tight around Akaashi’s as they stop in front of the local police station. They’re both high strung, even if Kuroo’s trying not to show it. Outside, the wind bellows and the naked trees shiver. “Just answer the questions about the shooting. You’re not obliged to answer anything about your personal life with Bokuto.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi nods, worrying his lips between his teeth. He leans forward, over the console, and Kuroo embraces him in a hug that is both comforting and not. He’s silent as Akaashi exits the car, and it’s only when the junior is halfway to the doors of the building that Kuroo calls after him. “Call me when you’re done! We’ll go get some of your favourite rabbit food!”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi immediately flushes red, ducking his head and booking it through the entrance of the police station to avoid the gazes of curious onlookers. Fine, Akaashi likes vegetables. There’s nothing wrong with that. Eating something healthy, at least, helps Akaashi feel less guilty about keeping food inside his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>The sounds of passing traffic fade behind the automatic doors, and a rush of cold air tussles his hair. Blue and white tiles line the floor of the reception, and there are a few people waiting in chairs secured against the walls. It doesn’t seem much like a police station, with just a few policemen standing guard and a receptionist pointedly staring at him from his perch.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Akaashi Keiji, here to give my statement.” Akaashi approaches the receptionist tentatively. He’s wearing the police uniform as well, and there’s a tag on his chest that reads ‘Maruyama Kazuki’. His hair is spikey, like a black starfish sitting on his head, and his eyes are big and intense.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah yes, we’ll be right with you.” Maruyama nods, and he picks up the landline and punches in some numbers.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly feeling very nervous, Akaashi excuses himself to the bathroom. He somehow manages not to run and settles into a brisk-walk instead.</p><p> </p><p>The toilet is small – just two cubicles, one occupied, and a matching pair of sinks. Akaashi turns on the tap and splashes some of the cool water onto his face. His heart is beating so hard it feels like it might crawl out of his throat and drop right out of his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi looks up, at the mirror, and stares at himself. He looks terrible. But then again, he’s looked terrible since the shooting. His complexion is ashen, and his lips are peeling and red. He’s wearing Kuroo’s varsity jacket over his usual sweater and jeans, just for the extra support. It’s too big for him – the sleeves drop down past his fingers – but it’s comfy and it really does help to calm him. It’s almost like Kuroo is there with him.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto never used to let Akaashi borrow his jacket. He only ever draped it over Akaashi’s shoulders to drive other people away.</p><p> </p><p>The toilet flushes, and a boy comes out of the occupied cubicle. Akaashi is about to go back out, ready to pace around in the waiting area before he gets called in, but he stops in his tracks when he realizes that the other person in the bathroom is one Iwaizumi Hajime. The football player looks taken aback, too, at his presence, and he hesitates before joining Akaashi at the sink.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi.” Iwaizumi greets, gruffly. Akaashi is surprised that he even said anything. Ever since Oikawa told Iwaizumi about his infidelity, the quarterback has been sitting with Sawamura on the football team’s lunch table, seemingly content to ignore Oikawa’s entire existence till graduation. “What are you doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Iwaizumi-san. They- they haven’t taken my statement yet.” Akaashi replies, his voice soft. Iwaizumi looks up from where he’s been concentrating on soaping up his hands, an incredulous expression painting his features, and Akaashi shrugs. “My parents made sure that they weren’t allowed anywhere near me for a few weeks. To protect my mental health.”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi nods slowly. Akaashi’s parents are pretty famous. They were transferred to work as lawyers for the city council during Akaashi’s freshman year. Akaashi always appreciated the move. He didn’t have much to leave behind, anyway, and starting over helped to bump him to the top of the social food chain.</p><p> </p><p>“I just finished giving mine.” Iwaizumi supplies, washing off the soap and reaching for a paper towel. “I found it pretty intense, and I wasn’t even in the thick of it. Good luck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san.” Akaashi nods. He wants to walk out of the bathroom and also the police station entirely, but then that would be breaking the law. Probably. Akaashi links his hands behind his back, playing with his fingers uncertainly. “Iwaizumi-san, I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me, but I’m sorry. For helping Oikawa-san lie to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi freezes, paper towel crushed in his hand, and Akaashi bulldozes forward. “I know Oikawa-san really loves you. He’s… He’s really torn up about everything. It would be great if you could give him a chance. To talk things out.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s silence for a minute, as Iwaizumi looks down at his hands and clenches them into fists. He looks angry, but he still speaks to cut off the apology on the tip of Akaashi’s tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry too.” Iwaizumi’s face is contorted into a frown, and he’s traded smushing the paper towel for gripping the edge of the sink. His knuckles are white. “I knew about the cheating. On Bokuto’s end, I mean. He would say things – really off-putting things – about you and your body, and he would brag about all the other people he slept with. I just thought it was locker room talk. The boys used to say things about Oikawa, too, before we got together. Not that any of that’s <em>okay</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi tries to ignore the nausea making tidal waves with his stomach acid.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t say anything, or do anything, to stop Bokuto, either. We’re both guilty in that regard.” Iwaizumi sighs, long and hard, and he turns to lean against the wall. He’s looking at Akaashi with sad brown eyes that are filled with pity, and Akaashi hates it. He hates Oikawa for telling Iwaizumi, too. “I swear, Akaashi, if I knew he’d been hitting you, that he- <em>fuck</em>. I would have-”</p><p> </p><p>The door opens suddenly, clattering against the bathroom tiles noisily, and Maruyama pops his head in. “Akaashi-san, we’re ready for you now!”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi nods, shakily following the receptionist out of the toilet.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi is silent as they leave, and Akaashi is glad for it. He doesn’t want anyone else to know, and he doesn’t care about what Iwaizumi would have, could have done. The point is that he <em>didn’t</em>. He didn’t do anything, and this is their reality now. Akaashi isn’t trying to blame Iwaizumi, either. He doesn’t blame anyone except for himself. There’s just no point dwelling on things that never happened.</p><p> </p><p>Maruyama leads them past the receptionists’ desk and through an unassuming door. This must be the police station proper, Akaashi thinks, because there are desks filled to the brim with sheets of paper, phones ringing incessantly and a ton of policemen scattered throughout the floor. It looks more like what he expected it to be.</p><p> </p><p>“Iwaizumi-san is your friend, then? He was here to provide his statement too.” Maruyama says, making small talk as he leads them through the big open space with all the desks, and then through a separate door. It’s quieter here, with nobody around.</p><p> </p><p>They’re walking down a long, empty hallway when Akaashi overhears the voices.</p><p> </p><p>“-never want to see another varsity jacket in my life.” The first voice grumbles. “I know it’s just a stereotype, but we’ve seen too many- what, popular kids? What’s the politically correct term here? Well-adjusted?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have to agree.” The second voice adds, sounding amused. “Some of them come in with balls the size of Jupiter.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can’t help but wonder who they mean. Kuroo? With his witty tongue and self-assured smirk, bruises barely faded from his neck? Terushima, all cheeky smiles turned ashen over the gaping wound in his stomach? Or maybe even Atsumu, who snaps at anyone who mentions his dead twin’s name. Not Oikawa, for sure. He would have played them like a fiddle. Sugawara would have, too. Both of them excel at acting innocent.</p><p> </p><p>The first voice snorts. “It’s hard to establish a motive, especially when the kid seemed to have everything going for him. For now, I’d say-”</p><p> </p><p>Maruyama clears his throat loudly, announcing their presence as they round the corner. He looks a little ticked off, probably because they’re talking about the investigation so openly. It’s not a secret, since its undisputed knowledge that Bokuto had been the shooter, but the police are still trying to find a reason for his actions. Their witness interviews must still be classified information.</p><p> </p><p>“Officers Shimada and Takinoue, this is Akaashi Keiji.” Maruyama introduces, and then he glares at the two officers – both nursing mugs of coffee – before stomping away. Akaashi blinks after the receptionist, before turning back around and shaking both officers’ hands politely.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice to meet you, Akaashi-san.” Shimada greets, shepherding him into an open door. He has middle-parted black hair and thick glasses. The other officer looks to be the complete opposite of him, with dyed-blonde hair cut short and spikey.</p><p> </p><p>The room inside is bare save for security cameras on all four corners of the ceiling, a metal table and three matching chairs. Akaashi is quite intrigued by the two-way mirror lining one of the walls. It looks exactly like a normal mirror, but he knows it’s not. He’s seen it in movies before.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi sits down on the side facing the mirror, while the two police officers take their seats across from him. They’ve perked up since he’s arrived, somehow looking renewed even through the heavy bags under their bloodshot eyes. Akaashi knows it’s because he’s one of the most useful witnesses they could ever hope to talk to. He’s the one who could potentially close all the gaps in their investigation, who could solve all the holes in whatever story they’ve managed to cook up.</p><p> </p><p>“I can take off my jacket if you want.” Akaashi says, even though he knows he shouldn’t. His nerves are making him say unnecessary things. The two officers look at him, confused, and Akaashi just gestures to Kuroo’s too-large varsity jacket. “You said you never want to see another varsity jacket in your life.”</p><p> </p><p>Both officers turn an interesting shade of red. Shimada sips at his coffee while Takinoue waves his hands in a dismissive motion. “No, no, it’s alright Akaashi-san. Are you alright to start?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi clasps his hands together tightly, under the table, and nods. He may have teased the officers in a show of false bravado, but he’s really just trying not to freak out. He doesn’t want to talk about the shooting, and he doesn’t want to talk about Bokuto. He has no idea what they asked everyone else, has no idea what everyone else said. He’s scared that he’ll say something wrong, or that he’ll say too much.</p><p> </p><p>The only consolation Akaashi has is the fact that they won’t ask him about the hit-and-run. There’s no link; this is a different investigation. They’re not trying to find out if Akaashi is guilty, even if he is. They just want to know Akaashi’s story and understand Bokuto’s motive. It’s what Akaashi keeps repeating, in his head, as the officers shuffle through their papers. It’s the only thing keeping him sane.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi-san, please state your name and your age.” Shimada says, giving Akaashi an encouraging smile. Beside him, Takinoue clasps his hands together on the cold metal table.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi Keiji. I’m sixteen, going on seventeen.” Akaashi replies, trying his best to breathe steadily. They’re starting off easy, at least. He hopes he doesn’t look too nervous.</p><p> </p><p>“What is your relationship with Bokuto Koutarou?” Takinoue is the next one to speak. Akaashi wonders if they’re going to take turns asking him questions like this. Looking at them now, it’s easy to see the good cop, bad cop dynamic they have going on.</p><p> </p><p>“I… I was his boyfriend.” Akaashi says. There are many versions of the truth, but it’s better to stick with the most well-known story. The story that every other student at Sendai High knows. “We broke up the week before the shooting.”</p><p> </p><p>Friday to Monday is a week’s difference, even if it’s actually two days. It just sounds better.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that.” Shimada says, not looking sorry at all. Akaashi feels a spark of irritation. He knows that they don’t really care, but then there’s no point even trying to pretend otherwise. Akaashi just wants this to be over and done with. “Was it an amiable breakup?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi frowns, hesitating. The police aren’t the media. They can’t be trying to pin this on him too, they can’t. The scorned ex-boyfriend is such an overused trope. “I’m not sure if this pertains to the investigation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Any details you can provide for us are useful, Akaashi-san.” Shimada explains, providing a little quirk of his lips. “It helps us to fill in the holes and get into the mindset of the perp.”</p><p> </p><p>“…. No, it wasn’t.” Akaashi grounds out. His hands are so tightly clenched that his nails are biting into his palms painfully. He’s guilty. He’s so fucking guilty. “He was very angry about it, because he thought that I was leaving him for Kuroo.”</p><p> </p><p>“To be specific, this is Kuroo Tetsurou-san, right?” Shimada clarifies, writing something down on his notepad.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi nods, uneasily, and Takinoue makes a low whistling sound. “And this Kuroo-san was close to Bokuto right? Kuroo-san came in and said they were best friends.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi exhales sharply. He knows where this is going and he doesn’t like it one bit. While Akaashi can stand by and watch the media vultures drag his name through mud, he’s not going to prison by association. “I’m not sure why you’re asking me questions that others have already answered.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s discontent must have shown through in his expression, because the two officers exchange a glance. Akaashi isn’t sure what it means, or what kind of understanding they shared, so it only makes Akaashi feel even more annoyed.</p><p> </p><p>“I apologize, Akaashi-san.” Shimada says, reaching for another sip of his coffee. Takinoue nods, now leaning back in his chair. “We didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine.” Akaashi says, even though it’s not fine. This is one thing he’s alright with talking about, if it will get people off his back. “Kuroo and I are not dating. He’s been a good friend to me and he understands that I need time to get over Bokuto-san. He’s the perpetrator of a school shooting, but he was once also my boyfriend. People–” Akaashi looks at each officer in turn, facial features blank. “–seem to forget that.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows what people say behind his back. That he’s a slut, that Bokuto shot up the school because Akaashi went behind his back and cheated on him with Kuroo. People can join all the dots and make all the assumptions they want.</p><p> </p><p>There are few people who know the whole story, the real one, and Akaashi is certain that they will take the secret to the grave. Bokuto already has.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, thank you for letting us know, Akaashi-san.” Shimada nods, exchanging yet another look with Takinoue. Akaashi sighs, resolving himself to not being able to understand what they’re secretly communicating about.</p><p> </p><p>“What can you tell us about Bokuto’s personality?” Takinoue continues, his hands behind his head. He looks relaxed, but his eyes are sharp and boring into Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>“He was… bright. Loud. Always the centre of attention. And he ate a lot.” Akaashi lists, thinking back to how Bokuto acted in school. Their star running back, loved by many and feared by more. Everyone cheered for him at his games, even the people he bullied. Shirofuku always did one too many toe-touches when he was looking her way. Akaashi should have seen through them earlier.</p><p> </p><p>“We understand that Bokuto was a brilliant athlete, and he won many games.” Shimada continues, and Akaashi scoffs inwardly. They wouldn’t be saying that if it had been some random who killed and maimed their classmates. They’re only being nice because Bokuto had been the darling of the town. “When he lost, did he manifest his frustration physically?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi remembers the losses more clearly than the wins. Bokuto was always more aggressive when he was upset. Beating people up, clearing out all that anger in a physical way, really helped Bokuto get out of his funk. Maybe that’s why everyone cheered for him. If they didn’t, and he lost, then it meant that he’d be even worse than usual till he got it out of his system.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can clearly recall what Bokuto was like after a particularly devastating loss. He had a wet towel draped over his head, and he stalked off into the locker room with agitation dripping off every step. Later, he led some of the other football players and jumped some of their opponents outside a diner they’d been eating at. He came to Akaashi’s house with a bleeding nose and a swelling eye, and then- then Akaashi doesn’t want to think about what happened after.</p><p> </p><p>“No. He didn’t.” Akaashi says, and he realizes that he’d paused for a moment too long. He doesn’t say anything else.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Akaashi-san.” Shimada clears his throat, averting his eyes to read something from a loose sleeve of paper. “You were at the hospital on the night of the shooting, and they reported that you had bruises on your… wrist and hip, as well as a broken leg.”</p><p> </p><p>“I got the broken leg weeks before the shooting.” Akaashi says, and the truth tastes bitter atop his lie. The officers are still looking at him, so he elaborates with a lazy shrug. “I fell down the stairs.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about the bruises?” Takinoue pipes up, raising an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“I got the one on my wrist when Bokuto-san and I broke up.” Akaashi sighs. He starts fiddling with the sleeves of Kuroo’s jacket. They did it all wrong. They were wrong, but there had been no other choice. At least that’s what Kuroo says, because Akaashi thinks differently. “Bokuto-san didn’t want to let me go. He clung on till he couldn’t anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“I… see.” Shimada says, looking thoughtful. Maybe Akaashi really did fill up the gaps in the story his friends provided them. He doesn’t know, because none of them told him which version they told. “And the one on your hip?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san pushed me over.” Akaashi says, because telling the truth is better when it’s so close to a lie. He unconsciously massages the hip he’d fallen on. There was nothing to break his fall, not with his leg still wrapped in a cast. It still twinges from time to time. “Bokuto-san wanted me out of the way. He wanted to kill Kuroo first, because he was the only one who could fight back.”</p><p> </p><p>“According to our investigation, Bokuto had a few guns on his person at the time.” Shimada says, and now he addresses Akaashi with a contemplative frown. “Why do you think he didn’t shoot you two, like he did everyone else?”</p><p> </p><p>“I…” Akaashi trails off. The look in Bokuto’s eyes had been manic, unhinged. Akaashi remembers it clearly, remembers the shining metal of a gun and the terror running like wildfire through his veins. He feels his lip wobble. “He ran out of bullets, I think. Only had the one left. I think he was saving it for himself.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Before (4) - The Homecoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone!! I'm quite worried about the current maintenance on AO3, because I heard their emails aren't getting received? Hopefully the subscribers still find their way back to this chapter TT.TT</p><p>Anyway, please do always keep the warnings in mind!! If you find yourself getting triggered or feeling bad please stop reading immediately!! &lt;3 Hope y'all enjoy this chapter too :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sugawara’s house is exactly like him. From the outside, it looks like a pretty cottage with pale magnolia walls and artisan tiling, colourful flowers spilling out from every crevice and lining the neatly trimmed garden like a photo frame. It really would have looked straight out of a movie, if not for the light fog dusting the grounds. It’s been raining for a whole week – typical this late in fall – but Akaashi still appreciates that the weather has finally let up a little, just in time for the homecoming dance.</p><p> </p><p>The student council president pops out of his front door with a spring in his step, striding down the front lawn to hop into the backseat of the car.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for the lift, Bokuto, Akaashi,” Sugawara says, once he’s closed the door. His breath smells sweet, like alcohol, but it’s no surprise. Terushima had thrown a small get-together as a pre-party party – his words, not Akaashi’s – where most of them had taken the opportunity to get wasted. Sugawara, surprisingly enough, had joined the drinking circle of hell, holding his own against the likes of Kuroo and Bokuto. The party wrapped up much faster than any of them were used to, but they all had to get home to get ready for the real thing anyways.</p><p> </p><p>“Anything for our resident student council prez’,” Bokuto grins, fiddling with the GPS. Sugawara’s house is on the outskirts of the city, so neither Akaashi nor Bokuto are very familiar with the roads. “We all gotta get there early, anyway. Goddamned Oikawa.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa, who’d been notably absent from Terushima’s impromptu drinking session, sent out a text to their slut club private group demanding they show up to help with some of the last-minute decorations – balloons, streamers, signs and the like. Hanamaki and Matsukawa are apparently held up at an appointment at the salon, so that just leaves Akaashi, who made the executive decision to drag Bokuto along too. Sugawara’s just tagging along as a concerned head of the student council. He’s probably going to try to rub any mistakes in Oikawa’s face, too.</p><p> </p><p>The strong engine of Bokuto’s big Audi SUV rumbles under Akaashi’s thighs as they turn away from Sugawara’s house. They speed down the street, then twist and turn a few more times down different boulevards. Bokuto’s starting to look annoyed at Google Maps, so he leans down and exits the app so he can reload it.</p><p> </p><p>“How much did you have to drink?” Sugawara pipes up from the back seat, looking a little alarmed. Akaashi twists his head back to look at him, then turns back around to look at the speedometer. Bokuto is going almost 80mph* on a small residential lane.</p><p> </p><p>“Chill. I’m sober enough.” Bokuto laughs, big and hearty, turning around in his seat to look at Sugawara. Akaashi clutches at his seatbelt a little harder. “There’s no one around, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san, you should really keep your eyes on the road.” Akaashi mutters, tugging at Bokuto’s sleeve. By now, Akaashi has become quite used to Bokuto’s reckless driving. He goes fast, turns hard, and brakes forcefully. He’s always had enough time to react to any possible accidents, but this time Bokuto is drunk on top of careless.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi, don’t worry about it,” Bokuto rolls his eyes. He’d already been annoyed that Oikawa interrupted them in the middle of a heavy make out session, so Akaashi has been trying not to provoke him even more. Not that it’s working. “It’s like you don’t have any faith in-”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop!” Sugawara screams, and it’s so sudden and jarring that Bokuto immediately steps on the brake.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has never heard Sugawara raise his voice before, but all of that is pushed to the back of his mind because the seatbelt snaps painfully taut against his chest. It chokes him, leaving him breathless, but then there’s a loud thump and Akaashi can only watch as they ram straight into a person. It’s too fast, and Akaashi can’t get out any specific features other than a head of black hair. The body flies forward on impact and lands a few feet in front of their car.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi screams, too, just an unintelligible shocked shout. Bokuto is staring at the body with wide eyes, but Akaashi is looking at Bokuto because he can’t bear to look at the person they just <em>killed</em>.</p><p><br/>Sugawara is different. He leans forward, propping himself up on the console in between Bokuto and Akaashi’s seats, and gives the body a once over. Akaashi can see Sugawara’s Adam’s apple bobbing, his soft brown eyes hardening. “I don’t think he’s dead yet.”</p><p> </p><p>Once his mind catches up, Akaashi feels a rush of relief. He feels his limbs all coming back online, shaky but working. More than he can say for the boy they just ran over. Akaashi digs in his pocket for his phone. “We need to- We need to call the police, an ambulance, whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, we can’t.” Sugawara says immediately, curling his own fingers around Akaashi’s phone. His fingers are shaking too, but they’re more solid than Akaashi’s. Bokuto is still staring at the body, but he tears his gaze away when Sugawara places a hand on his shoulder. “Bokuto, you need to drive. Over him. Again.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s entire body flashes hot, and he feels himself breaking out in cold sweat. “W-What?”</p><p> </p><p>Sugawara’s eyes are narrowed as he looks from Akaashi, to Bokuto. He kneads a finger into the wrinkles gathering between his brows. When he speaks, it’s slow and calculated like he’s tutoring them in calculus, not talking about running over a person. “They’re going to take us all in and do drug tests on us. They’re going to find out that we’re drunk. We’re <em>underage</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s mouth falls open. “You’re worried about- about getting caught for drinking? He’s dying out there-!”</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto! You’re going to lose all your scholarships! <em>I’m</em> going to lose all my scholarships!” Sugawara interrupts, his voice turning sharp in his desperation. Bokuto reels back, looking like he’s been slapped in the face. The running back’s eyes are wide, and it’s the most vulnerable Akaashi has ever seen him. Sugawara picks up on this too, plowing on ruthlessly. “If we call an ambulance, all three of us are going to waste away in juvie. Bokuto, you might be big and bad in our high school but I guarantee it’s not going to be the case when you’re being housed with gang members and actual criminals. We’re going to lose <em>everything</em> over an accident!”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi wants to interject, wants to tell them that they’re being ridiculous, but Sugawara slaps a hand over his mouth. His voice, usually kind and soft, is all steel when he speaks again. “Bokuto. Drive.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi watches as the emotions flit over Bokuto’s face – shock, confusion, horror, trepidation, determination. Then he watches as his boyfriend grips the steering wheel with white knuckles and floors the pedal.</p><p> </p><p>They speed forward again, and Akaashi starts crying when the car rolls over the body. It doesn’t even shake much. It just feels like they’re going over a speed bump. Bokuto turns the music all the way up, gritting his teeth and focusing on the road for the first time in his life. Sugawara finally lets Akaashi go, turning around to take another look at the body, and Akaashi curls up on himself and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The drive to school is shorter than Akaashi thought it would be, because they’re stopping in no time at all. His sobs have dissolved into hiccups, and he feels like he’s tired enough to sleep for the next ten years. They’ve parked right next to the dumpsters at the back of the gym, not in the big parking lot at the front of the school. Akaashi sits in shotgun, staring out into nothing as Sugawara and Bokuto get out of the car and inspect the damage.</p><p> </p><p>When they’re done, Bokuto opens the passenger-side door and pulls Akaashi out by the arm. His touch is rough and distracted – he’s still talking to Sugawara. “-clean up the front. There’s no dent, but it’s still better to give it a wash.”</p><p> </p><p>“We need help. And an alibi.” Sugawara nods, resting his chin in his hand. He seems to perk up as he remembers something, and he turns to Akaashi. His smile is sweet, as it usually is, but Akaashi just feels sick instead of comforted. “Akaashi, what did Oikawa tell Iwaizumi he was doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” Akaashi scrunches his face up, blindsided by the question. Bokuto squeezes his arm, and he forces himself to think. “Oikawa-san told Iwaizumi-san that he was with me, getting ready for tonight. The homecoming committee is shorthanded.”</p><p> </p><p>Sugawara’s grin is so bright it’s almost blinding. “Great.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has no idea how Sugawara knows what he’s doing, or where he’s going. His own mind is a muddled mess. The student council president just leads them through the back door of the sports wing, past the hallway beside the gym, and into the secluded toilets at the corner of the building. Breathy moans are flooding out from the one occupied cubicle.</p><p> </p><p>“He never changes.” Sugawara mutters, shaking his head as he goes up to the stall. He raises his leg, and then kicks the cubicle door with all his might. “Oikawa! Come out.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a loud yelp that sounds distinctly like Oikawa, and Akaashi would have laughed if it were any other time. The sound of shuffling clothes follows, and then the door is unlocked and Oikawa pops his head out. He looks annoyed, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled, but he takes one look at them – Sugawara; frowning with his hands crossed over his chest, Bokuto; glowering at nothing with an iron grip around Akaashi’s arm, and Akaashi; trembling like a leaf with eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights – and harrumphs, mouth setting in a line.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened?” Oikawa demands, stepping fully out of the cubicle with his hands on his hips. Kuroo follows after him, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and raising a brow at the three of them. “You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can’t help it, he thinks back to the body lying motionlessly on asphalt, and he whimpers. It’s soft and pathetic, but it’s loud in the silence of the toilet. The next thing he knows, Bokuto has him pressed against the wall with his arm braced against his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“I swear to God, Akaashi,” Bokuto snarls, and Akaashi forces his hands into fists by his sides even though his breath is being crushed right out of him. Bokuto’s eyes are wild as he presses their foreheads together. “It was all your fault. You shouldn’t have distracted me.”</p><p> </p><p>Behind Bokuto, Sugawara’s hand has flown to his mouth in shock, like he’d not just convinced Bokuto to run over another person. Even Oikawa’s eyes are wide at the sudden display of aggression. Neither of them has ever seen Bokuto raise his hand against Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s the only one who snaps out of it quickly, maybe because he’s long since expected this type of behaviour from his best friend, and he tries unsuccessfully to pry Bokuto away. “Bo! Stop it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry! I’m sorry.” Akaashi manages, stutteringly, and Bokuto finally drops him. He falls to his knees painfully, scooting backwards and curling up on himself. That’s right, isn’t it? Akaashi had been talking to Bokuto, distracting him from watching the road, when they hit that boy. It’s all his fault. He can’t let Bokuto and Sugawara’s lives be ruined because of his mistake.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto is still fuming, muscles bunching as he clenches his hands into tight fists, so Kuroo inserts himself between him and Akaashi to break eye contact. Oikawa steps forward, his jaw set as he looks between Sugawara and Bokuto. “Explain. Now.”</p><p> </p><p>“We were coming here from my house,” Sugawara admits, running a hand through his grey hair. He winces a little, likely remembering the state of the body. And then he lies. “We accidentally… hit someone.”</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck.” Kuroo spits, eyes widening a fraction. He looks at Bokuto first, probably trying to discern if it’s a prank. When Bokuto’s face remains stoic, full of anger, Kuroo exchanges a glance with Oikawa. “Why are you telling us this?”</p><p> </p><p>“We need you to be our alibi.” Sugawara says. Both Oikawa and Kuroo rear back in surprise, but while Kuroo looks like he’s about to vehemently decline, Oikawa looks thoughtful.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t tell anyone, Tetsu, Oikawa.” Bokuto says, stance threatening as he rounds on Kuroo. The hockey captain raises his hands in a placating motion, but Bokuto just fists a hand in Kuroo’s collar. “You can’t. I’m not going to lose everything because some dumb fuck didn’t look both ways before crossing the street.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.” Oikawa shrugs, and Kuroo looks at him like he’s grown a second head. The tall brunette shares an unreadable look with Sugawara. “You’ll tell Iwa-chan about me and Kuroo if I don’t cooperate, right? It’s fine. Akaashi was meant to be here with me the whole afternoon anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t be serious! Dicking around is one thing, but this is a <em>crime</em>!” Kuroo snaps, taking a step back. Bokuto follows him, grip tightening around his neck. Kuroo looks back at him with wide, shocked eyes – the first trace of genuine emotion from him – and his gaze trails to Sugawara, and then Oikawa, who are both looking at him expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows it’s going to be hard for Kuroo to just accept it, but he has to, for all of their sakes. He reaches out to tug on the back of Kuroo’s shirt pleadingly. “Kuroo-san, please. Sugawara-san and Bokuto-san have too much to lose. We can’t say anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo twists his head to look down at Akaashi, looking stricken and unsure. But something in Akaashi’s expression must have changed Kuroo’s mind because, after a tense moment, his shoulders deflate. Kuroo turns back around and slaps Bokuto’s hands away. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t know anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto takes another look at Kuroo, examining his features for any hint of a lie, before relaxing. He breathes, deeply, and then like a switch that’s been flipped, he plasters a smile on his face. It’s his unwitting, empty-headed star football player smile. The smile Akaashi fell for, even though recently it has begun to make his stomach queasy.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re such a bro, you know that? I just need some help giving my car a bit of a wash down.” Bokuto grins, throwing a hand over Kuroo’s shoulders and guiding him out into the hallway. The door clatters shut behind them; their footsteps disappearing into the distance.</p><p> </p><p>Once Bokuto’s overbearing presence is gone, Akaashi has nothing to focus on except for the gurgling in his stomach. Maybe it’s just habit, or a trained reflex for when Bokuto is violent with him, but Akaashi rushes into one of the bathroom stalls and throws up.</p><p> </p><p>It hurts because there’s already nothing in Akaashi’s stomach. At this point, he’s just puking up bile and choking on its acidity.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to go make myself seen.” Sugawara says, above the sound of Akaashi retching. Always professional, always thinking about the right course of action in every situation. Water splashes against the sink as the student council president runs the tap, probably to make himself presentable again. “Take care of Akaashi.”</p><p> </p><p>And then Sugawara is gone too, door squeaking open and shut behind him.</p><p> </p><p>For a while, it’s so quiet that Akaashi almost thinks that Oikawa left with Sugawara. It really wouldn’t be surprising. Then, the smell of sweat and flowers invades Akaashi’s nostrils, a smell so typically Oikawa that Akaashi sags a little in relief. He hasn’t been abandoned.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa watches him wordlessly, leaning against the open door. It doesn’t even seem like he’s mentally there. It’s more like he has too many thoughts racing through his head to pay attention to what’s happening right in front of his eyes. But he’s still standing there, and Akaashi is glad for it.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s perfume is strong, but it’s a welcome change to the putrid smell of his own stomach acid. It helps stabilize Akaashi enough so that he knows he’s not going to puke again. He sighs, reaching for the flush before sagging back against the wall of the stall.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on.” Oikawa bends down, helping to haul Akaashi to his feet. Akaashi almost startles at the contact. This is probably the first time Oikawa has ever touched him, skin to skin, in the three years they’ve known each other.</p><p> </p><p>They go over to the sinks, and Akaashi gargles his mouth. He’s ready to just slump back down onto the floor now that the bitter taste of bile is gone, but Oikawa pulls him through another doorway, different from the one the others left from, and Akaashi realizes that there’s a whole row of showers and lockers in here. No one ever comes around here, not with the newer facilities on the other side of the gym. This is probably where Oikawa freshens up after every hookup.</p><p> </p><p>“I assume your outfit is with Bokuto?” Oikawa asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Akaashi nods. The brunette types something on his phone aggressively, then slips it back into his pocket. “We’re going to shower, and then we’re going to get ready for homecoming. There’s nothing out of the ordinary here. Do you understand me?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi nods again. He knows what Oikawa is trying to do. They won’t speak of what happened to anyone, to each other, ever again.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa starts stripping first, telling Akaashi about his shampoo and conditioner and ten-step skincare routine. Akaashi pretends to listen as he strips too, grateful for the distraction, and the both of them step under the hot spray. Oikawa eyes him a little, lingering over the bruises purpling Akaashi’s abdomen, but he’s never said anything before and he doesn’t say anything now.</p><p> </p><p>It’s only when they’re wrapped up in towels that Oikawa says anything at all.</p><p> </p><p>“Were you ever going to tell me how soft Tetsu-chan is for you?” Oikawa asks, as he massages some kind of serum into his face.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” Akaashi replies, already pulling on his underwear. The shower really helped to freshen him up – he can tell why Oikawa likes to do this in the middle of the school day. Or however often he gets down and dirty with a random.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been having sex with Tetsurou for years, now.” Oikawa laughs, taking a raindrop-sized portion of some nude-coloured paste. He smears it under his eyes, dark circles disappearing under his fingertips. “And I’ve never seen him make that face.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi really doesn’t understand what Oikawa is trying to say, but Oikawa doesn’t try to explain himself either. The junior finds Oikawa’s words lingering at the forefront of his mind all through the mess that is homecoming – through helping Matsukawa and Hanamaki slip extra ballots into the prom court voting box, through Bokuto drunkenly making out with him on the dance floor, through Oikawa and Iwaizumi getting their crowns on stage, through Sugawara’s heartwarming speech, and even through watching Bokuto sneak off into an abandoned hallway with Shirofuku.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s thoughts only come to a halt when Kuroo asks him for a dance.</p><p> </p><p>The hockey captain’s hands are impossibly gentle as he pulls Akaashi against his chest, guiding his footsteps to the slow song playing in the background. His expression is still that of confidence to the point of arrogance, but his eyes are soft above his leering smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“How’re you holding up?” Kuroo asks, his words a whisper beneath the loud music.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s eyes are as sharp as his crown as they meet Akaashi’s from beside Iwaizumi’s ear, but Akaashi just looks away and rests his head against Kuroo’s chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be okay.” Akaashi murmurs, feeling the rhythm of Kuroo’s heart against his ear. “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it.” Kuroo sighs, carding his fingers through Akaashi’s hair. It brings Akaashi back to a hazy night under the stars, and he ponders over how Kuroo always seems to pop up every time something horrible happens. Always ready with those soothing fingers threading through his hair, easing every knot in his muscles, banishing every troubled thought in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi lets himself wonder how different life could be like, if he were together with Kuroo instead of Bokuto.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Approximately 128km/h for the rest of us metric users</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. After (5) - The Stadium</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm excited to announce that I've started a series for this!! For now, I'm only planning on a few one-shots and short stories to explore the other characters in this universe, nothing too complicated. And of course, Touchdown can be read on its own.</p><p>Anyway, I decided to update a little earlier this time because y'all were all so into the last chapter! :D I watched the NHL for this ^^" Hope you guys like this chapter too &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi knows that hockey is a big thing for their school, but he has never really understood how big it actually is across the country – until now, that is.</p><p> </p><p>The stadium is packed. Akaashi reckons that it’s a full house, because he can’t see any free seats. There are media crews everywhere, cameras pointed at the ice rink sitting at the bottom of an amphitheater of plastic seats. A pair of announcers are testing their microphones from across the players’ bench, speakers around the stadium broadcasting their voices loudly. The audience is thrumming with a skittish kind of energy, and loud cheers erupt every once in a while, even though the players are all still warming up.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it always like this?” Akaashi asks, incredulously, as he looks around the huge stadium. Maybe it’s because they’re indoors, but everything seems more concentrated, more intense, than Bokuto’s games. There’s way too much media presence too.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, it’s just ‘cause it’s finals,” Terushima explains from next to Akaashi, chomping down on some cheese fries he’d gotten from the concession stand. He offers some to Akaashi, who takes one gratefully. “The media doesn’t usually bother with us, but I guess they’re just looking to mine more drama from the shooting-”</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome back to Sendai Arena!” One of the announcers says, into his mic. The way his voice suddenly booms loudly around the huge dome startles Akaashi, but the rest of the crowd cheers excitedly. The game is finally about to start. “Today, we have the Sendai Lions playing against the Tokyo Wolves in a match that will decide the winners of the 2020 High School Hockey League!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s sure to be an exciting game! These teams have had a rivalry for decades, and they both bring quite some firepower to the table.” The other announcer continues. “Sendai High made national news just months ago for a tragic school shooting. This cost the Lions dearly, which has resulted in a huge change in their starting roster. Will this tip the scales in the Wolves’ favour?”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima scowls, slouching in his seat. He’s been attending practice regularly, but Kuroo isn’t letting him on the ice. A single check could unravel his stitches and reopen his bullet wound, and Kuroo isn’t one to risk yet another of his players’ lives.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t mean that Terushima isn’t going to sulk about it, though.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t wait till they stop talking about it,” he grumbles, pouting like a child. “I can’t wait till I’m healed.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo skates up to them, helmet in his hand and a wry smile on his face. He props his stick up against the side of the rink before leaning over the boards, leering in a way that Akaashi used to hate. It hits differently now, though, after everything they’ve been through together. It’s cute.</p><p> </p><p>“So, can I get a good luck kiss? Or is the paparazzi too much for you?” Kuroo greets jokingly, but the way his fingers drum against the hard plastic of the boards exposes the nervous energy hiding below his usually unflappable front. He looks a little distracted as well, eyes darting back to the rink and up to the media platform. “I hope you enjoy the game, Akaashi, even if Terushima’s here to annoy you,” – there’s an indignant “hey!” from said party – “and… just don’t mind what the other guys might say to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi raises a brow as he stands from his seat. The media vultures have definitely zero-ed in on them now. Both Kuroo and Akaashi’s faces have become synonymous with the Sendai Shooting, have become too recognizable for people looking out for them, and the cameras go off in quick flashes. “What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo blinks, pulling up to his full height when Akaashi comes to join him at the boards. Akaashi is pretty tall, but Kuroo still towers over him. “Well- there’s a lot of trash talk amongst the players, especially between plays. It’s called chirping. The Wolves just have more ammo against us this year.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.” Akaashi huffs, glancing behind Kuroo, at the rink. Some of the players have begun staring too, even though they should be warming up. “It’s fine. I’ve been called many things, and I don’t think the Tokyo Wolves are going to come up with anything more creative.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo nods, his smile a little brighter, a little more confident. He must have been worried for Akaashi, even though he really wanted Akaashi to watch the last game of his high school career. It’s sweet. Akaashi can’t help but smile at Kuroo, and somewhere behind him Terushima makes a choking noise.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, in front of so many cameras and curious eyes, but it’s not like people haven’t been butting their noses into Kuroo and Akaashi’s personal lives just because they were closely related to the shooter. He leans forward and pecks Kuroo on the cheek. It’s brief and chaste, but suddenly their faces are blown up on the big screen originally meant for plays on the ice.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s your good luck kiss.” Akaashi says, his face hot. He’s glad there’s no audio in the video feed. When Akaashi looks back up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, he’s shocked to see that Kuroo Tetsurou, fuckboy extraordinaire, is blushing so hard his entire face has turned red. Akaashi smiles again, but he hides it behind his hand this time. “Now go win the game, captain.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s mouth, open in shock, closes and spreads into a confident smirk. He nods, before pushing himself off the boards and skating back towards his team. Akaashi sits back down, stuffing some fries into Terushima’s mouth before he can say anything unnecessary.</p><p> </p><p>“There comes captain of the Sendai Lions and power centre, Kuroo Tetsurou!” One of the announcers says, and Kuroo pumps his stick in the air. Half of the stadium starts booing loudly, which shocks Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>“Like captain said, don’t worry about it.” Terushima says, once he sees the crease forming between Akaashi’s trim eyebrows. He’s all long limbs stretched out on his hard-plastic seat, and he playfully sticks out his tongue at Akaashi. “We’ve been getting boo-ed at since way before you two became media darlings.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi isn’t happy about it, but he still nods and settles back in his seat. It’s not like he can do anything about it, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>The match starts, and barely any time has passed before Akaashi understands what Kuroo meant.</p><p> </p><p>Hockey is rough. Checks might be legal, but they’re still brutal because the players are colliding into each other while skating at breakneck speeds. From where he’s seated in the front row, Akaashi can almost hear the breath getting knocked out of the players. Akaashi can’t really hear the chirps between players, but he does get his fair share of heckling when some of the Wolves skate past him and Terushima.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, sweet cheeks.” One of the Wolves comes up to him, cutting his path close to the barrier. There’s a big 4 printed on his jersey, and Akaashi thinks he may just have bad karma with the number. “Why don’t you dump that useless fuckhead over there and come home with me instead?”</p><p><br/>In the next play, Kuroo ducks and hip checks Four so hard he flips over Kuroo and lands on his back. Four gets him back, running Kuroo roughly against the boards, and he’s put on a two-minute time out because of it.</p><p> </p><p>All things considered, Terushima reports that they’re still doing pretty well. There’s not much of a point spread between the two teams, but the Lions are handling themselves well through the new lineup.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo has been the starting center forward for two years, so he has enough experience and skill to make up for the rest of the team. Up till the shooting, the Miya Twins had been renowned as Kuroo’s right and left wingers. They were vicious on the ice, and the fact that they were brothers just solidified the team play. Now, Futakuchi is doing his best as Kuroo’s new left winger. He’s no less brutal, but the teamplay does suffer since he’s not as in tune with Atsumu as Osamu had been.</p><p> </p><p>It’s only after the second intermission that things go to hell.</p><p> </p><p>One of the Wolves – lucky 13 – says something to Atsumu that makes him go off. They tackle each other onto the ice, grappling and punching at each other wildly. The referees keep blowing their whistles, but in the end it’s their teammates who manage to pull them apart. Akaashi can barely reconcile the fact that this boy had been lying deathly still in a hospital bed for a week.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you!” Atsumu’s panting hard as he’s pulled out of the rink. He’s not going back on the ice today, not after the stunt he just pulled. The blonde rips off his helmet, eyes snapping away from Thirteen to his captain. “He- fuck, he talked shit about Osamu and I wasn’t just gonna let him go, captain. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s eyes narrow, and he just nods at Atsumu. “It’s okay. You’re done, anyways. You could hardly breathe during the last play.”</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu looks like he wants to argue, but a single, stern glare from Kuroo makes him deflate. Although reluctant, Atsumu still nods and plops down on a vacated chair. His breaths are hard and labored, wracking through his body in big shudders.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima’s out of his seat in a flash, going over to get Atsumu’s attention through the plastic barrier. Akaashi knows that Terushima must be feeling desperately helpless. He’s a member of the team, yet he’s not even on standby because of his injury.</p><p> </p><p>The game is close.</p><p> </p><p>Without the attacking power of all three of the Lions’ regular forwards, they lose their point advantage. But Kuroo isn’t going to give up, Akaashi knows it. Not to mention that he’s backed up by Futakuchi – who is a good kid. Akaashi believes Futakuchi when he apologized and explained that he didn’t know the jungle juice was spiked, all those months ago, even if Kuroo doesn’t.</p><p> </p><p>They set up again, and Akaashi sees Futakuchi say something to Thirteen as they lock their hockey sticks. The tension escalates as the confrontation is blown up on the big screen. Futakuchi, smart-assed as usual, just smirks and holds up a thumbs-down at the camera.</p><p> </p><p>The referee blows the whistle, and then Akaashi can only watch on in awe as Kuroo wrestles for the puck, slapping it to the side. It’s taken by Futakuchi, who shreds the ice with how fast he’s skating towards the other side of the rink. Four flanks him, gaining speed. He’s reaching out with his stick, hoping to trip Futakuchi, but then Kuroo barrels into him and they both go flying into the boards.</p><p> </p><p>Glass shatters on impact, and Akaashi’s hands fly to his mouth in shock, but the play is not over – Futakuchi is nearing the goal line, but Thirteen is in his way. Futakuchi rounds the corner, feinting right. Thirteen takes the bait, but Futakuchi ducks left and swings.</p><p> </p><p>The puck goes skidding straight into the Wolves’ goal, and the last buzzer rings loud and true.</p><p> </p><p>They’ve won.</p><p> </p><p>Confetti rains down from the ceiling, and the entire Sendai High hockey team skates onto the ice for a giant group hug. Kuroo is in the middle of it, whooping and grinning at his teammates. Atsumu joins them, skating out onto the middle of the rink with heavy limbs, and Kuroo brings him into a tight hug.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi feels goosebumps emerge at the sight, and he ruffles Terushima’s hair when he pads back to Akaashi’s side. The blonde boy’s eyes are actually a little wet, and he ducks his head into Akaashi’s chest. Akaashi just laughs and hugs him tight. If Terushima can’t be with his teammates, then Akaashi will have to do.</p><p> </p><p>They sit back down, waiting for the rest of the crowd to drain out of the stadium before they head to the locker rooms.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima energetically recounts all the good plays his teammates managed to pull off, tongue piercing glinting under the bright lights as he waves his hands about. Looking at him now, Akaashi can hardly reconcile this excitable hockey-obsessed boy with the arrogant, spoiled ladies’ man he’d first gotten to know.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like Terushima just wants so desperately to play the game. He wants to be on the ice, having fun with his teammates, his friends. The passion in his eyes makes the corners of Akaashi’s lips tilt upwards unconsciously.</p><p> </p><p>When Terushima sees this, he turns, walking backwards so he can look straight at Akaashi. He puffs his cheeks and then looks away again.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, Akaashi, I would totally go for you if you and captain weren’t already so into each other.” Terushima admits, bluntly and without shame. Akaashi, on the other hand, feels his eyes widen and the heat return to his cheeks for the second time that day. Terushima shrugs. “You don’t care about my money, and you actually listen when I’m talking about hockey. I’m a simple man with simple needs.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Akaashi tries to flatten his smile, but it’s not very successful because Terushima has begun laughing his bright, contagious honk of a laugh. Terushima is a player, someone who reels people in as easily as breathing. Flattery is a very potent weapon in his arsenal, and Akaashi has enough experience with people like him not to fall for it. “A simple man who cycles through bed partners like they’re clothes.”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima just grins, waggling his brows, and Akaashi is suddenly struck by the similarity between him and Kuroo. Kuroo had been just like this too – frivolous, flirty, with no care for consequence. He bounced around even amongst people he knew he shouldn’t be with.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s not that way anymore, and he’s certainly proved that he cares about Akaashi. Akaashi loves him, and he knows that Kuroo loves him too, but they’ve just never established themselves as an official couple. Akaashi has never referred to Kuroo as his boyfriend, not even in his head.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, Akaashi knows that labels aren’t everything, but he’s very aware that the two of them aren’t anywhere close to a relationship. While Akaashi is grateful for Kuroo and all the things he’s done for him – things so weighted that Akaashi has no chance in hell of paying him back – Akaashi is also not very sure if he’s ready to move on, to commit to someone else after his last relationship went up in flames so spectacularly.</p><p> </p><p>Once bitten twice shy, and all that.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you two lost or something? This is the way to the locker rooms.” Someone says, derailing Akaashi’s train of thought. He looks up, and then he tries not to grimace. Terushima just <em>had</em> to bump into some of the meanest-looking guys he’s ever seen. The two of them fill up the corridor with their size, glaring down at Terushima.</p><p> </p><p>“What, don’t recognize me just ‘cause I wasn’t on the ice this season?” Terushima snorts, sticking his head even closer into their personal bubbles. There’s arrogance spelled clearly on his features, and Akaashi is suddenly overcome with the overwhelming urge to smack some sense into him. He doesn’t give in to it, settling instead on pulling Terushima back by his collar.</p><p> </p><p>“I apologize for him.” Akaashi says firmly, bowing low before shepherding Terushima through the small space between the two guys and the wall. He jabs a finger into the back of Terushima’s head. “You’re being rude, Terushima!”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” The other guy suddenly moves to block their way, bracing his hand against the wall as he leers down at them. Akaashi startles when he realizes that he recognizes the voice – it’s the Tokyo Wolves’ Four. Out of uniform, he has dark cornrows running along his scalp and steel grey eyes. “I know you.”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima, always one for a fight, struggles out of Akaashi’s grip and storms up to the first guy. Akaashi wants to follow after him, but he can only make a sound of frustration when Four steps in his way again. “Please move out of the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re an asshole, you know?” Terushima spits, loud enough that Akaashi can hear it from the other side of Four. “Shit-talking Osamu to Atsumu was a low fucking blow.”</p><p> </p><p>Understanding floods Akaashi’s mind like a splash of cold water. Number thirteen. It’s no wonder Terushima had been so eager for a fight – not that he could take it, what with the healing wound on his abdomen. How unlucky did they have to be to run into these two?</p><p> </p><p>“Miya should’ve just taken it like the cocksucker he is.” Thirteen laughs spitefully, and Terushima shoves him. Akaashi is starting to panic. If Terushima gets injured here, he’ll need to go back to the hospital immediately. Bullet wounds are tricky things. Akaashi will need to call for an ambulance.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re Kuroo’s bitch,” Four snickers, bringing Akaashi back to the problem standing in front of him. The hockey player crosses his arms over his chest, and Akaashi can’t help but swallow at the sight. Four’s muscles are huge, and his sweater does nothing to cover it. “That slut from the shooting.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi frowns, anger joining his swirling fear. “You have no right to talk to me like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm.” Four raises a brow. He steps forward, and Akaashi steps back. “You’re pretty uppity for a cheating whore. I mean, look at that face. I’d break you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck did you say?” Terushima growls, from behind Four, and then there’s the sounds of a scuffle. Akaashi tries to duck around Four, but he catches Akaashi easily and pins him back against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re with me, babe.” Four grins, bracing his forearms on either side of Akaashi’s head and crowding him in with his body. Akaashi flattens himself against the wall and plasters his best sneer on his face. His heart is beating so fast. It’s been a long time since Akaashi has felt like this – like he’s been backed into a corner, a hulking figure blocking the only exit. Four just laughs. “If you can put out for a piece of shit like Kuroo, then you can put out for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Four tries to reach out to touch Akaashi’s cheek, but Akaashi slaps the offending limb away. It’s effective, even if Akaashi’s hands are shaking. “I don’t <em>put out</em> for anyone. Let me go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh. Feisty.” Four snatches Akaashi’s hand out of the air, tugging hard on his wrist. His face is twisted into an easy smirk, and for a moment, all Akaashi sees is Bokuto. Bokuto, with his golden-brown eyes blown wide and his mouth split in a laugh as he pins Akaashi against the wall, or the floor, or the bed. Like he’s just toying with his prey.</p><p> </p><p>And then Akaashi sees red.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t know what comes over him. Akaashi is not usually a very violent person, but Four reminds him of Bokuto, as he used to be when it was just the two of them, and something in him just snaps.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi kicks upwards, getting Four right in the balls. The taller of the two bends over, groaning in pain. Taking this as an opportunity, Akaashi clutches his hands together tightly and swings them down onto Four’s neck. It must hurt, because Four drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. But Akaashi isn’t done, even if he knows, somewhere deep down, that it’s more than enough to escape.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi crouches down, straddling Four’s chest, and punches him in the face. He anchors himself down with his weight, ignoring the hands clawing at him and the body bucking underneath him. Akaashi isn’t the strongest, and he knows that his punches aren’t going to hurt as much as the ones Bokuto threw, but he’s relentless and he keeps punching until he feels something give and warm blood flow onto his hands.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi keeps punching some more, until hands wrap around his torso and pull him away.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi. <em>Enough</em>!” There’s a familiar voice is in his ear, and Akaashi blinks through the haze of anger and fear. It’s Kuroo, he realizes belatedly. Kuroo is holding him, pressing him tight against his body. The rest of the hockey team is there too, staring at him with expressions ranging from shocked to impressed.</p><p> </p><p>Thirteen, who has a split lip, quickly pulls a groaning Four back to his feet. They book it out of there quickly, but Akaashi doesn’t care. He scans the faces around him, and he sags in relief when Terushima steps forward to come to Akaashi’s side.</p><p> </p><p>“Terushima.” Akaashi says, a little shakily, as he reaches out to pat down the blonde junior. It seems like he’s mostly uninjured, just a bleeding nose he’s holding a tissue against. “That’s good. I was worried that you’d get hurt.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Terushima’s eyes widen, and the arms around Akaashi go rigid. “Are you serious? I’m not the one everyone’s worried about right now! That guy was such a creep!”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo turns Akaashi around in his arms, holding him a little further away to inspect him for any injuries, before crushing him back against his chest. For a moment, Akaashi can see Kuroo’s face, and it’s contorted into a mess of concern and frustration. “Are you… Are you going to be okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Akaashi nods, reaching up to hug Kuroo back. His words come out in a whisper. “I just… I thought he was Bokuto-san.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Before (5) - The Staircase</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys!! Happy June!! We surpassed 200 kudos omg, thank you all for your support &lt;3 </p><p>I realise I forgot to remind you guys about the warnings in the last chapter oops! So now I will remind you guys again. Please always keep the warnings in mind!!</p><p>Also, I have officially finished writing Touchdown!! In terms of drafts, of course, because the next few chapters still need A LOT of editing ^^" (the last two chapters really went out of control at like 4.5k each!!) But since I'm done, I'll be pushing up the upload schedule to every four days :D </p><p>Enjoy! &lt;3 Next chapter will be out on the 6th of June :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things change after Homecoming, and it’s how Akaashi finds himself studying with Kuroo on a crisp December morning.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s parents are on a business trip for the weekend, going over legislation in the capital, so Kuroo and Akaashi sit quietly at the Akaashi family’s kitchen table. Textbooks, notes and tons of multi-coloured stationery are scattered messily across the table, but both boys are quiet as they pour over their studies.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can’t help but spare a few extra looks at Kuroo, though. The older boy has been reaching out to Akaashi more than usual lately, texting him daily to ask him how he’s doing, or to inquire about Bokuto, or more often to chat for no reason.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not that Akaashi doesn’t enjoy Kuroo’s company. In fact, he actually really does. Kuroo is tactful and smart. He likes making lame jokes and goofing off, but he’s also serious and quiet when he needs to be. He’s great at conversation, and Akaashi really believes that he can come to understand Kuroo on a deeper level.</p><p> </p><p>But those are just the good things, of course. Kuroo isn’t just made of this nice guy façade. He’s a bully in his own right, cutting down people where they stand with just his cruel tongue. He’s sly and cunning, and he values winning over anything else. His reputation as a notorious fuckboy isn’t unfounded, and he doesn’t really care if he’s hooking up with someone who’s already taken.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has been in Kuroo’s circle of friends for two years, after all. He’s seen the trail of broken hearts Kuroo has left behind, the cruel things he’s done to people. Akaashi knows what Kuroo is actually like – which is why he doesn’t <em>understand</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you being so sincere with me?” Akaashi asks, bluntly. It cuts through the peaceful tranquility like a bullet slicing through the air. “Why do you suddenly care?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s pen stops moving. He exhales deeply and raises guarded brown eyes. “Is it so out of character for me to be concerned about a friend?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Akaashi sniffs, fiddling with his pen. “But we were never really friends to begin with, were we? I was just Bokuto-san’s boyfriend to you, or one of Oikawa-san’s friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“To be honest, I’ve always thought you were hot.” Kuroo states, rather matter-of-factly, and Akaashi rolls his eyes. Leave it to Kuroo Tetsurou to say that about his best friend’s boyfriend. Then, Kuroo sighs. “But you’re right. I don’t think I really got to know you till recently.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi raises a brow, as if to say <em>see what I mean</em>? He leans back in his chair. “So what changed?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, I got to know you. You have to understand. Bokuto… he’s really prideful.” Kuroo says, licking his lips. He almost seems nervous, but that can’t be. “He likes bragging and shit-talking, and you’re usually the person he talks the most about. Bokuto’s my best bro, so of course I believed him.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi freezes, eyes narrowing even though he feels like he’s just been blindsided. “What did he say?”</p><p> </p><p>“Look, you don’t talk to anyone, okay? You’re close to Oikawa and his cronies, and their reputations aren’t exactly pristine. So the entire school thinks you’re a stuck-up slut.” Kuroo says, so quickly that Akaashi barely catches his words. The hockey captain winces once it comes out, but he doesn’t give Akaashi any time to digest the information. “He’s been bragging about how good of a fuck you are long before you first had sex with him. And I only know that ‘cause I found out you were a virgin, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi opens his mouth, but then he clamps it shut again. When he speaks, his voice comes out a little strangled. “But… why?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a star athlete, Akaashi, and a popular one to boot. He’s expected to <em>score</em>. No one knew you well enough to defend you.” Kuroo says. He stretches out, as if to touch Akaashi’s forearm, but thinks better of it and settles with clasping his hands together. “What- What can you recall from Terushima’s party?”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima has thrown many, many parties, but Akaashi knows which one Kuroo is referring to. How can he not? It was probably one of the most horrible and humiliating nights of his entire life.</p><p> </p><p>“I found Bokuto-san and Shirofuku together.” Akaashi recounts, refusing to add a respectful suffix to the cheerleader’s name. “I drank spiked alcohol, and then Futakuchi kissed me.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo snorts and mutters, “He tried to do a lot more than that.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi just glares at him. “The rest is a bit of a blur, but I remember that you were there. You helped me, and then Bokuto-san took me home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, well. I don’t know how to say this.” Kuroo sighs long and hard, carding a hand through his hair. Goosebumps pop up along Akaashi’s arms. He remembers the feel of those hands on his head, he remembers it much too clearly for someone who can’t remember much else. Kuroo reaches forward, and this time he really does encase Akaashi’s hand in his grip.</p><p> </p><p>“I was angry with you, at first. I thought you were cheating on Bokuto, and I know how much of a hypocrite that makes me, but. Well.” Kuroo grimaces. “I tried to talk to you about it, by the pool. You weren’t really there, just kind of dazed, but you were… really cooperative. You told me everything. About Bokuto.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi feels his mouth dry up, but he tries to cover it with a weak chuckle. “What do you mean? I was really out of it; I probably wasn’t making any sense.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t lie to me, Akaashi.” Kuroo frowns, hands tightening around Akaashi’s. “Homecoming was the last straw for me. I’ve always known that Bokuto’s aggressive, but I kept thinking ‘how bad can he be?’ till he slammed you against the fucking wall. He would’ve choked you out if you never apologized, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s mouth falls open a little, denial on the tip of his tongue, but Kuroo charges on. He looks conflicted, almost confused. “Oikawa told me about the bruises on your stomach, and I’ve seen, with my own fucking eyes, how much weight you’ve lost since you got together with Bokuto. I <em>saw</em> you watch Bokuto fuck off from the dance with Yukie, so you’re aware that he never stopped cheating on you.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s too much. Akaashi snatches his hand away from Kuroo, dropping his pen in the process. His heart is beating so hard that it’s pounding loudly in his ears. Kuroo knows. He knows about everything, and Akashi doesn’t know what to do. He never really counted on anyone else finding out – or caring enough, even if they did. Being confronted with all the evidence like this makes Akaashi feel almost as vulnerable as he does with Bokuto.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you still with him?” Kuroo asks, gaze softening. Akaashi is reminded of Futakuchi in the moment, his body heat and the way he pressed their bodies close together as he asked Akaashi the same question. The hockey captain doesn’t press forward, though. Instead, he retracts his hand again, leaving it in his lap. It’s like an odd game of push-and-pull between them, but Akaashi appreciates that Kuroo is giving him space.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi won’t lie, he’s thought about breaking up with Bokuto many times before. It’s just that there are so many other variables to take into consideration, and Akaashi does habitually overthink. Akaashi’s reputation is a big concern, because leaving Bokuto is going to be rough. Undaunted by Bokuto’s threatening presence, Akaashi will become fair game. Even though Bokuto spreading shit about him isn’t ideal, it’s still better than everyone else doing so.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not like Akaashi has much of a support system, either. He can’t depend on Matsukawa or Hanamaki, and he’s still wary of Oikawa. Sugawara is out of the question entirely.</p><p> </p><p>Above all, Akaashi is most worried about Bokuto. The running back had been violent enough before homecoming, but the hit-and-run brought out the worst in him. Akaashi doesn’t know what Bokuto is capable of, what he’ll do if Akaashi were ever to try to leave him.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, Akaashi guesses he’s just scared. He used to think being popular would free him, but he’s come to realize that it’s just another set of chains to bind him.</p><p> </p><p>For now, Akaashi should just focus on getting Kuroo off his back. There’s no reason for Kuroo to care, all of a sudden. If anything, Kuroo is still Bokuto’s best friend, and he’ll be on Bokuto’s side if shit goes down. All of them will, and then Akaashi will be left in the dust. He really needs to be careful.</p><p> </p><p>“I understand.” Akaashi says, pursing his lips. “I’ll try to talk to Bokuto-san, so you don’t need to feel like you’re obliged to check up on me all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not-” Kuroo shakes his head, cutting himself off with a frustrated noise. “Akaashi, he’s hurting you. That’s not okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s funny, coming from you.” Akaashi says, coldly. Kuroo really needs to stop butting his head into places he’s not welcome. “You never seemed to care about hurting people while you were fucking Oikawa-san behind Iwaizumi-san’s back.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s hands clench into fists on the table, and Akaashi almost flinches back. But Kuroo doesn’t lash out. He just breathes out, deeply, and clutches at his own thighs instead. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone since homecoming.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not my business.” Akaashi snaps. He already knows that, of course. The rumour mill in Sendai High is ruthless, to say the least, and he’s not just friends with one of the parties involved, but also some of the biggest gossip mongers in the entire student body. While Oikawa claims that he’s lost interest in Kuroo, Kuroo has fallen off the grid entirely. Who does Akaashi believe? Or does he believe both of them?</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not dumb, Akaashi.” Kuroo’s eyes soften again, and the expression looks foreign without his irritating smirk to accompany it. “You know that I like you.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi goes rigid.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he suspected it, ever since Oikawa clued him in to Kuroo’s soft spot for him, but Akaashi didn’t want to overthink their budding friendship. He’d been glad to have someone in his life who actually seemed to care about him, and he had been looking forward to getting to know Kuroo better as well. But everything has changed now that Kuroo has confessed.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi would never cheat. He would never betray anyone like that – not even Bokuto.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Akaashi shakes his head, and to his horror his voice trembles. His chair scrapes noisily on the ground as he stands. “Please get out of my house.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t wait to hear Kuroo’s reply. He turns and walks away, locks the door to his room and buries himself in his blanket. He hears Kuroo pull away soon after, tires squealing on asphalt, and that’s when he lets the tears fall.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s words don’t mean a thing. Akaashi’s learnt his lesson many times before. People never mean the things they say – <em>I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I would never hurt you. I will never leave you</em>. None of it actually means anything and Akaashi is more cautious now than ever. He’s been burned before, and Kuroo has quite the reputation.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi just has to keep reminding himself that Kuroo is a manipulative asshole. He’s used to twisting hearts to get what he wants, and Akaashi will just be painting a giant target on his face if he caves in. No matter – and Akaashi does shock himself when he admits this – how much he actually wants to.</p><p> </p><p>The tears slowly ease off, exhaustion settling in its wake, and Akaashi allows himself to drift off. His nap is fitful and restless, and he thinks he hears something shuffling around in his room but that can’t be. His door is locked, and his parents are away. Akaashi snuggles deeper into his pillow, but then he feels a sharp tug on his pants and his eyes fly open in panic.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi almost screams, but then a warm hand clamps over his mouth and he’s looking into two bright, rounded eyes. His boyfriend’s eyes. Somehow, the thought doesn’t really help to calm him.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi gasps, squirming. He can’t get out from under Bokuto – his thick legs are clamped around Akaashi’s thighs and he’s bearing his full body weight down onto Akaashi’s chest. The door is still closed, but his window has been forced open. Bokuto must have climbed in through there. “What- what are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto tosses Akaashi’s pants to the other side of the room. When he turns around, his eyes are narrowed. “Akaashi, are you cheating on me with Kuroo?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Akaashi replies immediately, but his mind wanders to Kuroo’s confession. Something hard smacks him across the face, and his eyes begin stinging. Bokuto slapped him.</p><p> </p><p>“I went through your phone. He was here earlier, huh?” Bokuto continues, like he hadn’t heard Akaashi at all. He presses down on Akaashi’s shoulders, and the scent of Shirofuku’s sweet perfume invades Akaashi’s nostrils. “What did you do, did you let him fuck you? How long have you been letting him touch what’s mine?”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s full weight is crushing him, but Akaashi can’t do anything but grit his teeth through the pain and try his best to breathe. He wants to say many things, like the fact that Bokuto had come here from Shirofuku’s house so he really doesn’t have any right to say something like that, or that Bokuto should put more trust in his boyfriend and his best friend. But Akaashi doesn’t say either of those things. “Bokuto-san, I’m not cheating on you! We were just studying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Bokuto’s laugh is dark and bitter, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t believe Akaashi. He shoves his hand into Akaashi’s boxers, fingers kneading at the younger boy’s ass cheeks. “You’re not allowed to talk to him anymore. I deleted his number from your phone, and I made you quit the group chat. You don’t need it anyway; you just need me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What-?” Akaashi gasps, but then Bokuto surges forward and captures Akaashi’s lips in a deep kiss. His tongue is insistent, his fingers bruising where they’re holding Akaashi’s jaw in place. At the same time, Akaashi feels Bokuto’s fingers spread him apart and prod him; thick, calloused digits pressing into his asshole.  </p><p> </p><p>The touch is foreign and unwelcome, even though they’d been intimate just the night before, and Akaashi hates it. Akaashi hates it so much that he bites down on reflex, catching Bokuto’s tongue between his teeth. There’s a burst of blood, hot and metallic in Akaashi’s mouth, and then Bokuto is rearing back with a gasp of pain.</p><p> </p><p>With the weight finally off him, Akaashi kicks wildly at Bokuto. Akaashi only lands one, on the hard plane of Bokuto’s chest, but it’s enough to free him. Akaashi quickly slides off the bed and runs for the door, but Bokuto recovers quickly. He tries swiping at Akaashi, but he misses by just a hair’s breadth and the younger boy manages to slam the door in his face.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s heart is pounding hummingbird-quick – it’s the first time he’s ever hurt Bokuto, the first time he’s ever denied his boyfriend anything. But Akaashi’s newfound defiance doesn’t last long. He’s only just reached the top of the stairs when Bokuto comes storming out of his room.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop!” Bokuto growls, and the way his fierce tone makes Akaashi want to whimper. Bokuto sounds angry, much angrier than Akaashi has ever heard him before, so he just hugs himself and turns around to face his boyfriend. He catches the glint of metal under the fading sunlight, first, and his entire body flashes cold.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto is holding a gun – a small pistol, but still a gun – and he’s pointing it at Akaashi. The junior’s mind goes blank. It can’t be, right? Bokuto wouldn’t actually shoot him?</p><p> </p><p>“It’s loaded, if you were wondering. Just the one bullet. All for you.” Bokuto says, stepping towards Akaashi. His hands don’t waver, and his eyes are cold.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s mouth is dry, and he tries to take a step back but the staircase is right behind him. He’s panicking, eyes darting from the gun to Bokuto and back again. “I’m- I’m sorry, Bokuto-san. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I know, Akaashi,” Bokuto croons, expression softening. He’s standing right in front of Akaashi now, and he reaches around to hug Akaashi tightly. Akaashi is frozen solid, very aware of the cold metal pressed against his jaw. In fact, he can hardly feel anything else. Bokuto can easily blow his head off from this angle.</p><p> </p><p>“But you’ve forgotten that you’re mine.” Bokuto sighs, pulling away from Akaashi. The gun is still pressed against Akaashi’s jaw, nudging it upwards so Akaashi is forced to look at him. “So you need to be punished.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t see it coming at all. He feels Bokuto’s hands on his chest, pushing him, and then there’s a sense of weightlessness as the ground opens up underneath him.</p><p> </p><p>It’s all pain from there, as Akaashi tumbles down the stairs to the ground floor. He yelps as he lands on his arm, and then his head, and then his back, but he can’t help but scream when his leg snaps in the wrong direction. He can hear the sound of a sickening crack, pure agony ripping through his senses as he slides down the last few steps and comes to a stop atop the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi sobs, trying to curl into a ball to make the pain stop. It just jostles his leg even more, and he can’t help but cry out in distress. There’s no position that’s comfortable, nothing that helps to relieve what feels like knives piercing through his flesh.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you see what happens, Akaashi?” Bokuto says, suddenly right next to him. Akaashi is so riddled with pain that he hadn’t even noticed Bokuto approaching. “You always make mistakes. You’re so clumsy, falling down the stairs like that. But that’s okay, because I’m here.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can hardly understand what Bokuto is saying, through the haze of pain, but he just nods and nods because it hurts so much and Bokuto needs to get him to the hospital. “P-please, please help me!”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto carefully places the gun on the floor and crouches down to Akaashi’s level.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi gasps, as Bokuto’s hands skirt along his waist. But he realizes that Bokuto isn’t trying to help him, his intentions awfully clear as he gingerly pulls Akaashi’s underwear off his good leg. It dangles around the thigh of his bad one, which is bent oddly. “Stop! B-Bokuto-”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto silences Akaashi by clamping a firm hand over his mouth, ignoring his muffled cries as he settles between Akaashi’s legs. Hiking Akaashi’s uninjured leg over his shoulder, Bokuto then slips his dick out of his unzipped pants. Akaashi feels it, hard and wet, as Bokuto lines himself up.</p><p> </p><p>The penetration itself doesn’t even hurt that much. Bokuto’s dick pulls at Akaashi’s insides, but the stretch is a dull ache as compared to the way his leg lights up in pain with every little movement. Maybe the adrenaline is finally kicking in. Akaashi really hopes that’s the case, because he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to endure this.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto leans down over Akaashi as he thrusts, hands braced on either side of Akaashi’s head. Akaashi can make out his features, now, even through the tears blurring his sight – eyes big and bright, open grin splitting his face in half. His ragged breaths puff against Akaashi’s cheeks, and all this distracts him for just a second before his leg is jolted against the back of the couch.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi <em>wails</em>. It’s a tortured sound, something so broken Akaashi almost doesn’t realise it came out of his own mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto doesn’t care. If anything, his rutting gets harder, more frenzied, as he drives into Akaashi with careless abandon. Akaashi’s leg keeps getting jostled around, and it hurts like nothing he’s ever felt before. The sounds that Akaashi makes don’t even seem human anymore, and his mind is crawling up the walls, bursting at the seams like he’s going crazy.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto leans down and kisses Akaashi as his hips stutter. It muffles his deep groan, but Akaashi can feel clearly, how the hot spurts of semen shoot into him like a brand.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the last thing Akaashi remembers before the peaceful nothing takes over; his vision fading to black.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. After (6) - The Graduation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I'm sure the last chapter was really... shocking to some of you. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it, somewhat ;) I can't believe that there are only two more chapters left!!!</p><p>Remember to always keep the warnings in mind! Enjoy &lt;3 </p><p>Next chapter will be out on the 10th of June :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi always assumed that graduation would go a certain way. He’d be in the audience, of course, there to support Bokuto and all the other seniors in their little social circle. Hanamaki and Matsukawa would compete on who could procure the bigger bouquet for Oikawa, while Akaashi would fall short as usual. Oikawa would sneak off halfway, intent on getting in one last hookup with Iwaizumi none the wiser. Sugawara would be up on stage, delivering the Valedictorian speech, while Sawamura watched attentively and adoringly.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, things rarely work out in the way Akaashi expects them to.</p><p> </p><p>Sugawara is still on stage. Only he’s not smiling charmingly at the audience, all bright eyes and sunshine-y disposition. Instead, he’s pinned a dark funeral veil to his graduation cap. It obscures most of his features, but it’s also quite the statement. He talks about the shooting, about deaths, and about sending off the past and welcoming the future.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi wants to scoff, because this is Sugawara Koushi, and if he didn’t care about the boy that they hit with a car then he sure as hell doesn’t give a damn about the faceless masses fallen to Bokuto’s rampage.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe he actually turned up.” Oikawa snorts, sounding an interesting mix of annoyed and grudgingly impressed. It’s the first thing he’s said about Sugawara today. “Whatever. He’s still hideous even after all the surgeries.”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi smacks Oikawa on the head, which pries a yelp from his parted lips. They get shushed by the parents sitting a few rows in front of them, but Iwaizumi ignores them. “Well then that makes you hideous both inside and out, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi stifles his snicker in his hand, suddenly glad he bumped into Iwaizumi that day at the police station. Oikawa and Iwaizumi might eventually have figured things out even without his help, but Akaashi is just grateful for it anyway. They’re both happier now, even if the new terms of their relationship allow Iwaizumi free reign of Oikawa’s phone and social media. Even if Oikawa’s lost all the freedom he used to have.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi would never have gone back to Oikawa, if he were in Iwaizumi’s shoes. He doesn’t know how Iwaizumi manages to build up even a semblance of trust for his boyfriend. It’s possible that Iwaizumi might actually be quite the masochist. But then again, Bokuto cheated on Akaashi too, and yet Akaashi didn’t leave him till there was nothing left of himself to salvage.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi wonders what that says about himself.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so mean, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whines, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi might not have noticed it before, but now Oikawa’s relief is obvious in the way it bubbles below his indignance. Akaashi’s not really sure if it’s just Oikawa letting his emotions hang on his sleeve, for once, or if he’s actually gotten to know Oikawa better in the last few months than in the last few years.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes, slipping his hand back around Oikawa’s shoulders. “I’ll stop being mean to you the moment you stop being a piece of shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa melts into Iwaizumi’s touch, ignoring the insult entirely, and Akaashi drops his chin onto his palm. Maybe it’s actually Oikawa who’s the masochist here.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s never going to happen.” Hanamaki snorts a half-laugh, ignoring Oikawa’s glare by tapping intently at his phone. Up on the stage, Sugawara winds up his speech and bows amidst polite applause. None of them clap.</p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki is the first to get to his feet, eagerly stretching his hands over his head. His hair is longer now, faded pink curling around his ears like Matsukawa’s used to.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa cringes when Hanamaki’s shoulders pop audibly, eyes trailing back to his leg. It’s still wrapped up and braced. The bullet shattered Oikawa’s kneecap, and it’s unlikely that he’ll ever be able to walk as easily as he used to. Even now, months after the shooting, Oikawa is still confined to a wheelchair.</p><p> </p><p>At least the senior’s whining has mostly stopped, what with Iwaizumi taking over Oikawa-babysitting duties. He’s always had a gift for shutting Oikawa down.</p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki pulls Akaashi out of his chair, slinging a friendly arm over his shoulders as they start to head out of the hall.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t really know what it is, but Hanamaki has started clinging onto him instead. Maybe it’s because Matsukawa, a constant presence at Hanamaki’s side, is gone. Maybe it’s because they’re both juniors, the only ones left behind. Or maybe it’s because Akaashi’s proven himself as his friend through those bad nights in the hospital, waiting on the all-clear for Oikawa’s one, two, three surgeries.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that last one is just wishful thinking on Akaashi’s part, but it’s still a nice feeling to have someone looking out for him instead of it being the other way around all the time. It makes Akaashi feel good about himself, even if he’s sure that Hanamaki isn’t so straightforward.</p><p> </p><p>“Yahaba and Shirabu are having a little get-together soon,” Hanamaki says, grinning as he gestures to his phone. Yahaba Shigeru and Shirabu Kenjirou. The pair are sophomores that Hanamaki got to know at one of Terushima’s parties, and Akaashi only knows this because they’ve been the only sophomores ever invited. “What do you say? Isn’t it time to mingle with our peers instead of hanging out with these old geezers?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Oikawa pipes up indignantly from behind them. Akaashi stops mid-stride, turning around to look at him, so Hanamaki does too. Oikawa puffs out his cheeks, hand trailing downwards to squeeze his injured knee. “I’ll have you know, I’m still in the prime of my life.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but you’re going to be halfway across the country come August,” Hanamaki drawls, waving a dismissive hand. He turns around, missing the flash of hurt that flits across Oikawa’s boyish features.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi tries not to sigh. He links his hands behind his back and fiddles with his fingers, thinks about what he can say to ease the souring relationship between Hanamaki and Oikawa. “I hope you won’t forget us, Oikawa-san. What with all the college parties and moving in together with Iwaizumi-san.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll try not to.” Oikawa scoffs, but now there’s a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. A half-success, then. Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes, leaning down and crossing his arms over the handles of Oikawa’s wheelchair.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we talking about?” A new voice joins in, accompanied by muted footsteps on the grass next to the path. Iwaizumi’s expression darkens, shoulders tensing, which can only mean one thing.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi turns, just in time for a long arm to snake its way around his waist. Kuroo smirks down at him, in the way that only Kuroo seems to be able to pull off. His free hand is shoved leisurely in his pocket, and his eyes seem to be asking Akaashi for permission. For once, Akaashi doesn’t shrug him off; smiling a little at the way Kuroo’s gaze becomes tinged with surprise.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima joins them too, moving from Kuroo’s flank to throw a sleezy arm around Hanamaki’s shoulders. Unlike Kuroo, he does get shrugged off.</p><p> </p><p>“As if, dufus,” Hanamaki says, flicking the pouting blonde on the forehead. “Get in line. Or just get me drunk enough.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo laughs obnoxiously, clutching his stomach as the sounds of a dying animal escape his mouth. Akaashi side-eyes him, making a face even though he’s probably the only one here who thinks Kuroo’s laughter is cute. He seems so sleek and cool at first, but he’s actually such a dork underneath that shiny plastic exterior.</p><p> </p><p>“This <em>dufus</em> is the new captain of the hockey team,” Terushima retorts, puffing out his chest even though he’s still rubbing the new red spot on his forehead. He sticks out his tongue and winks. “Does that get me a VIP pass?”</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, Hanamaki’s answer is cut off as the whirlwind of Sugawara Koushi appears, a buzz of activity chasing his every step. Sawamura follows after him, a giant bouquet of flowers in his arms and an amused smile on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“How was my speech?” Sugawara asks, veil fluttering in the wind. The thin film of lace blurs his features, softening edges that are too harsh, too sculpted. Akaashi has seen Sugawara without it – an accident, while accompanying Terushima on a check-up at the hospital – and he doesn’t look too bad. Sugawara doesn’t look the same as he did before the shooting, and he probably never will, no matter how many plastic surgeries he’s willing to endure.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi guesses that’s true for all of them, that none of them will ever be the same. It’s just that their wounds are all hidden inside instead.</p><p> </p><p>“Boring.” Oikawa replies immediately, the same time Iwaizumi says, “Good.”</p><p> </p><p>The couple glares at each other, although Oikawa’s is weakened by the fact that he has to crane his neck to look up at Iwaizumi. Sugawara’s expression remains placid, expectations for Oikawa’s behaviour already subzero, but Sawamura’s lip curls in displeasure.</p><p> </p><p>“I enjoyed it.” Akaashi interjects. He smiles a little, meeting Sugawara’s eyes through the veil. They’re not on the best of terms, especially not after the accident, but everyone deserves a little recognition for their hard work. “It was informal, but you remained respectful the whole time. I heard some people cry.”</p><p> </p><p>Sawamura, at least, looks appeased. Iwaizumi and Hanamaki look rather surprised, because Akaashi definitely hadn’t been paying attention to Sugawara’s speech. In the end, it’s Oikawa who speaks up. Because Oikawa has always seen through Akaashi, and that isn’t going to change just because Akaashi can see through him now, too.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to handle us like you handled Bokuto, Akaashi.” Oikawa’s voice is soft – he’s aware of the fact that they’re lingering in the courtyard outside the hall, surrounded by parents and graduating students – but it still twists Akaashi’s heart like it’s a wet rag. There’s not an ounce of pity in his brown eyes, and Akaashi finds solace in them. “We’re not a bomb you have to diffuse.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone falls silent, gazes snapping over to Akaashi. He feels himself shutting down, facial features returning to their default state amidst the shock in his mind. Akaashi hasn’t heard anyone utter Bokuto’s name in months. It’s still jarring, guilt tearing him apart inside, and Akaashi wonders if it will ever get better.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t-” Akaashi stops, breathes in deeply, exhales. “I didn’t realise I was doing that. I apologize.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi thought he’d been getting better. Akaashi thought he’d at least gained some progress, even if he’s not fully over it. How pathetic does Akaashi have to be, to devolve into a mental mess at the mere mention of his ex-boyfriend’s name?</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s arm tightens around Akaashi’s waist, and it feels restrictive, smothering, even though deep down he knows it’s just Kuroo’s concern manifesting itself physically. Kuroo has always been that way, reaching out just enough and then pulling back again. Kuroo doesn’t withdraw this time, however, so Akaashi pries his arm off his body and stalks away.</p><p> </p><p>It’s beyond Akaashi to think about the weakness he’s showing now, and he’s far from caring about what they all think about him. All Akaashi can think about now is how hard it is to breathe, his chest tight and his lungs too small.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi makes it to the bathroom, at least, so he splashes some water onto his face. It’s cold, soothing in the heat of spring turning into summer. Akaashi stays like that for a moment, just trying his best to breathe as he’s hunched over an off-white sink. He looks at the little droplets dotting ceramic, counting them one by one until his breaths even out and his head doesn’t feel like it’s about to explode.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you feeling now?” Kuroo’s voice echoes, sounding hollow in the tiled bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, it doesn’t surprise Akaashi that he’s been there all this time. Kuroo likes watching from afar, when it comes to Akaashi. He’s not sure why, since this is Kuroo he’s talking about. A boy well known for his indiscriminate skirt-chasing. And pants-chasing, too. Kuroo should know what he’s doing, not dance around Akaashi like an uncertain virginal schoolboy.</p><p> </p><p>“… I’ve been better.” Akaashi replies in a croak. He pulls back from the sink, drawing up to his full height. The water drips down from his face, sliding down his neck and dampening the collar of his shirt. “Why did you follow me?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo grimaces, but he doesn’t make to approach Akaashi from where he’s leaning against the wall of a bathroom stall. “The last time I let you walk away from me… It didn’t end that well for either of us.”</p><p> </p><p>A note of understanding graces Akaashi’s mind, but it’s accompanied by a flood of memories he’d really rather forget. Akaashi makes a frustrated noise. “I can’t believe it still- I can’t even hear his <em>name</em> without-”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo hears the silent plea in Akaashi’s voice, sweeping forward in a few long strides and pulling Akaashi into a tight hug. This time, Kuroo’s touch is welcome and comforting. Akaashi gives up trying to understand what his body wants and just relaxes into the embrace. He can smell Kuroo and his particular brand of fabric softener, can feel Kuroo’s hot breath puffing against his ear.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” Kuroo coos, smoothing Akaashi’s wild, tangled hair. His hands are callous-rough, but his touch is gentle. “You’re going to be okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo holds Akaashi in his arms for a long time. Akaashi doesn’t know how long it takes, but his sobs slowly taper off into soft sniffles. His shoulders slump, exhaustion seeping into his bones.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo pulls away then, although not fully. One of his hands is still wrapped around Akaashi. He lifts the other to comb back the curls matted to Akaashi’s wet skin. Then he bites his lip, dark gaze trailing back down to meet Akaashi in the eyes. “Akaashi, I… I know you need time, but you’re just isolating yourself and bottling up your emotions. I can’t just sit back and watch you self-destruct. I want to be there for you. I want to go through this by your side, before August comes and I have to go away to college- I-I <em>love</em> <em>you</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“But-” Akaashi starts, cutting himself off when Kuroo cups his jaw. The older boy leans in slowly, brushing his lips against Akaashi’s tentatively. There’s hesitation clear in Kuroo’s movements, allowing Akaashi enough time to move away if he wants to.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t.</p><p> </p><p>The tension drains out of Kuroo’s shoulders as he presses more firmly against Akaashi. Akaashi kisses back, feeling teeth nibble at his lower lip. Kuroo is asking for permission, again. It’s just another thing about Kuroo – he’s always seeking consent before doing things, making sure that Akaashi is as into things as he is. It’s nice.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi drops his jaw, an open invitation if he’s ever seen one, and Kuroo’s tongue slips into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi takes back what he said about Kuroo acting like a virginal schoolboy. His tongue is skillful, experienced. The kiss feels soft and rough at the same time, designed to rile Akaashi up in all the best ways.</p><p> </p><p>When they slip apart, both of them are panting. Akaashi’s hands move on their own accord, trembling lightly as they frame Kuroo’s face. He swipes a thumb across Kuroo’s cheek, traitorous tears welling in his eyes again. “I don’t want to be unfair to you, Kuroo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just tell me now, Akaashi.” Kuroo says, firmly. He reaches up, clutching at Akaashi’s hand and pressing it even harder against his skin. Akaashi sees the flicker of doubt in Kuroo’s eyes, and his heart constricts painfully. “Do you… have feelings for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I do, how can I not?” Akaashi almost laughs at the incredulity of the question. It’s not just all the things that Kuroo has done for him, but it’s Kuroo himself. They understand each other on an entirely different level. They’ve placed their lives on the line for each other. They’ve even been slandered together and then defended, <em>rescued</em> each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Then please, be my boyfriend?” Kuroo’s eyes droop pleadingly at the edges. He slips his fingers between Akaashi’s, pulling their joined hands away from his face so he can hold Akaashi properly. “I don’t care about anyone else, and I don’t care what they think. I’ve seen how strong you are, and I just want you to know that you can rely on me. You can show me your vulnerable side, too, and I would never leave you because of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not about what people will say. I’m too damaged, Kuroo,” Akaashi shakes his head, trying to pry his fingers away. “It’s been months and I can’t even- I can’t move forward, I can’t forget <em>him</em>. You deserve so much more.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck that.” Kuroo snaps, and Akaashi ceases wriggling his fingers. Kuroo’s grip is vice-like, and it’s not budging anytime soon. A pang of fear hits Akaashi, as though Kuroo will hurt him like Bokuto used to. It’s misplaced. Kuroo isn’t going to do anything to Akaashi to hurt him – that’s one thing Akaashi is sure of. But Kuroo senses the fear, and he backs off, fingers slackening. “I don’t care about any of it. Not about what you think about yourself, or what you think I deserve. I’m telling you now that I want to be with you, Akaashi. So tell it to me straight. Do you want to be with me?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi opens his mouth, ready with a whole list of rebuttals and denials and claims of how Kuroo can do so much better, will do so much better, when he takes his hockey scholarship and goes to college in a whole other state. That’s what he should do – leave, and forget Akaashi and all the tragic, fucked up things that happened here in their small town.</p><p> </p><p>But another part of Akaashi, the selfish part, wants to keep Kuroo pinned down by his side forever. He wants there to be more binding them to each other than just a secret that makes Akaashi’s stomach turn. He wants to be with Kuroo, he wants to lean on Kuroo and he wants to learn how to trust Kuroo in ways he’s never been able to before. And it’s the part that wins, because Akaashi finds himself nodding at the taller boy.</p><p> </p><p>“I do, Kuroo. I really do,” Akaashi finally admits, both to himself and to Kuroo. “I love you and I want to be with you, even if I know it’s selfish of me. Even when I don’t know if I’ll ever get over what happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi.” Kuroo breathes, eyes widening. His mouth is curling into a smile, a cute one Akaashi wants to kiss away. “That’s just what I’m for, right? Helping you through this?”</p><p> </p><p>No, Akaashi thinks. Kuroo is so much more than just a rebound, so much more than a crutch to Akaashi’s failing mental health. Kuroo is everything – Akaashi’s savior, his hope, his life. Kuroo is the only one who reached out to help him while he was suffering under Bokuto’s tyranny, was the only one who stuck by Akaashi’s side when everything blew up in his face. Kuroo is the only one else who knows the whole truth.</p><p> </p><p>But Kuroo fans the flames under Akaashi’s selfish side, and it’s impossible for Akaashi to give him up now that he’s finally confessed his true feelings.</p><p> </p><p>Instead of answering, Akaashi just presses closer and kisses Kuroo full on the lips. It’s probably a little too aggressive, Akaashi trained only by drunken escapades and an ex who took much more than he gave. He doesn’t know what kind of kisses Kuroo likes, but he’ll have more than enough time to find out in the future.</p><p> </p><p>“Woah.” Kuroo gasps, pulling back and away from Akaashi’s insistent lips. He chuckles, running a hand through his messy black hair, when he sees Akaashi pouting. “So, boyfriends? You’re going to have to say it properly before I give you anything more.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi almost rolls his eyes, but he settles on sighing instead. “Boyfriends.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo grins, dipping his head. His slender fingers are gentle as they prop Akaashi’s chin up, tilting his face into the kiss. When their lips meet again, Akaashi feels his knees wobble and his fingertips tingle.</p><p> </p><p>When Kuroo hooks his arms around Akaashi’s waist, pulling them flush together, he listens to the way Kuroo’s heart thumps in time with his and marvels at the way Kuroo’s smile curves against his lips.</p><p> </p><p>For the first time in a long time, Akaashi finds that he doesn’t care, anymore, that he’s being horribly selfish. It just feels too right to deny. And with Kuroo here, in his arms, Akaashi can only feel warm and loved.</p><p> </p><p>Things may finally be looking up, after all.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Before (6) - The Classroom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Omg y'all... I can't believe it. There's only one more chapter to go!!!!</p><p>Like I said, these last two chapters kind of went out of control. But that just means more stuff for you guys to read, right! I'm also almost done with the one-shot that's next in this series so I hope you guys are looking forward to that too :)</p><p>Always keep the warnings in mind! Enjoy &lt;3</p><p>Last chapter will be up on the 14th of June :")</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I hope you recover quickly, Akaashi-kun,” Shirofuku smiles down at him, the curve of her lips mocking. But Akaashi can see the spark of irritation in her eyes, the tense slope of her shoulders, even from the seat of his wheelchair.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Shirofuku-san,” Akaashi nods, and then Bokuto is already pushing him away. Shirofuku looks put out, crossing her arms over her sizable chest as she storms away. Satisfaction blooms in Akaashi’s chest, even though he knows it’s petty. There’s no lost love between him and Shirofuku Yukie.</p><p> </p><p>It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since Bokuto pushed Akaashi down the stairs and took advantage of him at his most hurt and vulnerable. Two weeks since Bokuto drove Akaashi to the hospital, acting the part of the frantic, protective boyfriend.</p><p> </p><p>Two weeks and Bokuto has yet to leave Akaashi’s side.</p><p> </p><p>For once, it’s Bokuto who’s sticking to Akaashi like glue. He pushes Akaashi around on a wheelchair, refusing to entertain the idea of crutches. He drives Akaashi to school, convinced that his big SUV is a better alternative to Akaashi’s parents’ silver Lexus. He’s always waiting for Akaashi outside his classes, ferrying him over to the next before getting to his own. Bokuto has even taken Akaashi’s phone, because there’s apparently no need for Akaashi to talk to anyone but him.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Bokuto just doesn’t want Akaashi to go telling their friends, or the <em>police</em>, about what happened between them. Not that Akaashi has any substantial evidence against him. Or maybe this is Bokuto’s way of preventing Akaashi from talking to Kuroo again, the cause of what he believes to be Akaashi’s infidelity.</p><p> </p><p>If anything, Bokuto’s overbearing behaviour has one silver lining – the fact that his cheating has stopped entirely. Since Bokuto is around Akaashi all the time, it’s really impossible for him to meet anyone else without Akaashi being there as well.</p><p> </p><p>Shirofuku’s sourness at being ignored is certainly rather enjoyable, too.</p><p> </p><p>“Football practice ends early today, babe,” Bokuto says, voice rumbling from above Akaashi’s head. Akaashi looks up, greeted with shining golden-bronze eyes and a wide smile. Bokuto looks so kind and handsomely boyish, even though Akaashi knows how cruel he can be. “Do you want to get some ice cream after?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can handle Bokuto like this, while he’s in a good mood. It’s better to just keep things that way till he can figure out what he’s going to <em>do</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds really good, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiles back, although it’s a little wobbly. He can still feel the cool metal of Bokuto’s gun under his chin, the sharp, burning pain of his broken leg. Akaashi’s smile fades, hand trailing down to his stomach. He’s not been getting any exercise at all, what with being coddled and stuck to a wheelchair all the time. “I probably won’t get any, though. I don’t want to get fat.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi startles when he feels Bokuto’s hand rest heavily on his hair. Bokuto’s eyes take on a hard glint, and his fingers flex around the crown of Akaashi’s head in a clear warning. Akaashi knows well enough that he shouldn’t be acting so suspicious. He knows that there will be consequences, but it’s just so hard when Bokuto’s touch does nothing but scare him.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi averts his eyes, shoulders slumping as he starts fidgeting with his hands in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be silly, Akaashi,” Bokuto drawls, butchering Akaashi’s name as per usual. His fingers relax, playing with the dark locks on Akaashi’s hair. It makes Akaashi’s skin tingle uncomfortably. “You’re so beautiful, so skinny. You deserve some ice cream too.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi exhales slowly through his nose, squashing down the wave of nausea at the thought of dairy in his empty stomach. He clutches at his own fingers tightly, till they go white in his grip. “Alright, Bokuto-san.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aka-chan! Bo-kun!” Someone calls, voice light and playful. Akaashi looks up from his hands and spots Oikawa. He’s all graceful long legs and an award-winning smile as he approaches them. There’s a stack of books hugged to his chest – he must only have just gotten out of class.</p><p> </p><p>“Oikawa, what’s up?” Bokuto greets, enthusiastically. They come to a stop in the middle of the hallway, other students splitting to shuffle around them carefully. The last person who bumped into Akaashi’s wheelchair had been sent to the nurse’s office with a fractured arm.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like to borrow Aka-chan for a little while,” Oikawa says, and a little hope blossoms in Akaashi’s chest. Oikawa might be able to get Akaashi away from Bokuto, even if it’s just for a while, because he’s Oikawa. He doesn’t pose a threat to Bokuto, and it would definitely look weird if Bokuto doesn’t let Akaashi hang out with a mutual friend.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, Oikawa,” Bokuto shrugs. He takes off his cap, smooths his hair back, and then secures it back on his head. A tuft of salt-and-pepper fringe almost immediately springs out of its confines. “Akaashi’s really hurt and I don’t want anything else happening to him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Bo-kun,” Oikawa’s eyes are creased into crescent moons as he smiles sweetly at the football player. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of Aka-chan.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Oikawa dumps his books on Akaashi’s lap. A breath of air escapes Akaashi’s lungs at the sudden weight, and he’s more focused on keeping the stack from tumbling onto the floor than on Oikawa maneuvering the wheelchair into his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” Bokuto says, his voice much more serious than before. Akaashi his entire body freezing up. Is Bokuto going to stop them? It feels even more agonizing now that freedom, however temporary, is dangling right before his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto strides forward, circling around Oikawa to bend down in front of Akaashi. Bokuto’s big, calloused hands cup Akaashi’s face. Akaashi almost flinches right out of his boyfriend’s grip, but he stops himself in time and clenches his hands into tight fists.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto stares at Akaashi for a moment, searching his eyes for something that he doesn’t seem to find. Then, Bokuto leans forward, pressing his lips against Akaashi’s. They are warm and soft, but Akaashi has to force himself to kiss back, to move his lips against Bokuto’s, and then to slowly drop his jaw and allow Bokuto’s tongue into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>When Bokuto finally pulls back from a kiss too filthy for public viewing, his cheeks are flushed and he’s smiling again.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll keep you to that, Oikawa.” Bokuto says, as he straightens to his full height. He claps Oikawa on the back, a little too hard to just be friendly, and then he jogs off in the direction of the football field.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can’t help but sigh in relief as they round the corner, with no sign that Bokuto has changed his mind and is returning to take Akaashi with him. There’s no point pretending that everything is okay, not when Oikawa is as observant as he is.</p><p> </p><p>Akashi doesn’t really know what he’s expecting from Oikawa, but he doesn’t expect him to remain silent all the way till they turn into a classroom at the end of the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>“The both of you fucking owe me for this.” Oikawa sneers, as the door shuts behind them. “I hate talking to Bokuto when he’s like that. He’s so needlessly aggressive.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi has barely enough time to process the fact that <em>Oikawa Tooru just swore</em>, before he realizes that they’re not the only people in the room.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo stares down at Akaashi from where he’s sitting, relaxed and casual, on the teacher’s table, and Akaashi’s breath immediately hitches in panic. Bokuto will kill him, will probably kill Kuroo too, if he knows that Akaashi is meeting Kuroo without his supervision. “I need to- we can’t be here.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s eyebrows knit together in a concerned frown, eyes so soft and confused that it makes Akaashi’s heart pang. “Akaashi, what’s wrong? What did he do to you?”</p><p> </p><p>All three of them seem to have a mutual understanding of who Kuroo is referring to.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. He snaps his jaw shut again, shaking fingers running down the pages of Oikawa’s textbooks. Is there even a point to telling them about anything? Exposing Bokuto’s actions but humiliating himself in the process?</p><p> </p><p>“You’re impossible.” Oikawa sighs, loudly. He cards slender fingers through his styled brown hair, eyes narrowing as he leans back against another table. Akaashi wants to glare at Oikawa, all feelings of gratefulness evaporating, but then he realizes that he’s actually talking to Kuroo. Oikawa’s gaze snaps back to Akaashi. “Akaashi, you know you can tell us? If you need help.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. “I have it handled.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you don’t.” Oikawa retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Even now, you’re sticking to Bokuto’s side even though he’s hurt you so badly.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can feel his heart jump to his throat, eyes widening. How does Oikawa know? They told everyone that he fell down the stairs on his own.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not a very good actor, Akaashi,” Oikawa says, a little mockingly. “Having one facial expression just means any little change is that much more obvious.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi looks from Oikawa, to Kuroo, and then back again. It’s easier to deal with Oikawa’s derisive scorn than the naked worry leaking from Kuroo’s gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“Both of you…” Akaashi finally sighs. “You never cared before, but then now you’re organizing some kind of intervention?”</p><p> </p><p>“I might be an asshole,” Oikawa rolls his eyes, “But you’re still my friend, Akaashi. Fighting is very different from one-sided abuse, and I- <em>we</em>, need to know if you’re going to be okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows it’s pathetic, but being acknowledged by Oikawa, being called a friend, is all that he’s ever wanted. He is sure Oikawa knows it too, and that he’s just saying it now to manipulate Akaashi into telling them everything.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san seems to harbor the belief that I’m cheating on him with Kuroo.” Akaashi relents, dropping his gaze back to his lap. The shiny cover of Oikawa’s textbook winks back at him. Biology SAT prep.</p><p> </p><p>“And you’re not?” Oikawa sounds surprised. When Akaashi raises his head again, he can see that one of the brunette’s eyebrows is arched in a question.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Akaashi exhales sharply, biting back the insult on the tip of his tongue. Oikawa may be impartial to casual infidelity, but that doesn’t mean Akaashi is too.</p><p> </p><p>“So- Bokuto, he hurt you because of <em>me</em>?” Kuroo asks, pushing off his perch and taking a step towards Akaashi. Akaashi’s hands fly to the handles of his wheelchair in panic, so the hockey captain stops in his tracks, even if the expression on his face belays his desperation to come closer. “Because he thought we were-?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Akaashi hisses, even though it hurts him. He needs to drive Kuroo away before he gets hurt too. “He broke into my house through my window. I made him angry, so he pushed me down the stairs. That’s it, okay? There’s nothing I can do, there’s no evidence that he did it.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a moment of silence, then Oikawa clears his throat. He looks distinctly uncomfortable, and Akaashi doesn’t blame him. “That’s- I didn’t think it was that bad.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not all, isn’t it?” Kuroo pushes, but Akaashi isn’t going to say anything more. Maybe Kuroo can recognize that determined look too, because he sighs and pulls out his phone. What he says actually makes Akaashi feel like throwing up. “Bokuto texted me, the day I went over to study at your house. He told me to stay away from you, and he told me that he’d kill me if he catches me talking to you again.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Akaashi breathes, twitching hands going slack in his shock. Bokuto had been threatening Kuroo too? That means that Akaashi has failed in keeping the damage to himself. Akaashi grits his teeth in frustration. He hadn’t even known.</p><p> </p><p>“He attached this photo, too.” Kuroo sighs, turning the screen around. Akaashi’s breath feels like it’s just been ripped from his lungs. Even Oikawa utters a shocked gasp.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is unconscious in the photo, dark hair messy and splayed out on the floor. His face is red and swollen, tear tracks on his cheeks and blood on his lips. The black, metallic glint of a gun stands out against all of Akaashi’s soft, fleshy features; barrel buried in Akaashi’s jaw. Below that, Bokuto’s message. <em>Stay away</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto had a gun?” Oikawa shrieks, voice breaking and slipping into a higher pitch. He looks at Akaashi, horrified, and Akaashi knows that he’s been cornered.</p><p> </p><p>“… I thought I was going to die. I thought he was going to kill me.” Akaashi’s voice is wobbly when he speaks, and he buries his head in his hands. His cheeks are flaming, and he’s humiliated to the nth degree. “I was s-sleeping, and when I woke up Bokuto-san was on top of me, pinning me down. I tried to run, you have to believe me, but he’s already so much stronger than me, and on top of that he had a g-gun. I didn’t stand a chance after- after my leg- I just had to lie there and <em>take it</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s silence as the connotation of Akaashi’s words sinks in.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi.” Oikawa looks aghast, face an ashy grey. “Did he. Force you?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi wants nothing more than to be able to run away from this, from Kuroo and Oikawa and Bokuto. He wants to turn tail and never look back, but he’s stuck in a wheelchair with his femur cracked in two places so he can’t even fucking move without either of them catching up to him.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s prolonged silence is more than enough confirmation. Kuroo’s face contorts in an expression Akaashi has never seen on him, and he can’t help but flinch back when Kuroo turns and punches the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“I wish I never left you on your own, Akaashi. I wish I’d just fucking stayed.” Kuroo’s voice is almost a growl as flexes his fingers. His knuckles are already bruising, blood welling from the cuts in his skin. “Why didn’t you tell me, or any of us, earlier? We need to do something about Bokuto.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san has my phone.” Akaashi mutters, unable to raise the volume of his voice any higher. He feels ashamed, suddenly, like it had been his fault that things have escalated this much. “I’m sorry. I know I should have ended things a long time ago, but I couldn’t. I can’t. I don’t- I don’t know what he’ll do if I leave. And now the two of you are getting involved, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi, please don’t apologize,” Kuroo’s eyebrows knit together, and now he stops holding himself back. In the blink of an eye, the hockey captain is on his knees before Akaashi, reaching out with his long arms to wrap Akaashi in a tight hug.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo is warm. He smells nice, like some crisp sort of cologne, and his arms are tight but not suffocating. Akaashi melts right into Kuroo’s embrace before he even knows what he’s doing. It feels comforting, helping to calm his racing pulse, as Akaashi feels his eyes well with tears. The junior bites his lip and reaches to clutch back at Kuroo, fingers snagging against the material of his jacket.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not your fault, Aka-chan,” Oikawa adds, softly. He stays where he is, watching them with blank eyes. He’s clutching his arms a little too tightly, manicured nails digging into pale skin. “Consent is important, even for someone who calls himself your boyfriend.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s something off about Oikawa, and Akaashi wants to ask him if he’s okay, but he’s distracted when Kuroo pulls back from the hug.</p><p> </p><p>The hockey captain is all sad dark eyes and downturned lips when he frames Akaashi’s jaw with his hands. Bokuto’s hands had just been there, cupping his face in the same way, but Kuroo’s touch doesn’t make Akaashi want to hurl.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay not to be able to leave him on your own.” Akaashi can hear the anger simmering in Kuroo’s deep voice. There’s not an ounce of his usual unflappable cool, or even the typical taunting amusement. He’s serious, and Akaashi wonders if maybe, Kuroo is actually more trustworthy than he believed. “Please let me help you. I’ll take responsibility for it, Akaashi. I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can feel Kuroo’s palms, moist and warm, on his cheeks. He can see his dark brown eyes, wide and open and everything Akaashi used to think Kuroo could never be.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo looks sincere. He looks genuine, and Akaashi really wants to believe that Kuroo isn’t lying to him. Akaashi feels his heart twinge. There’s no possible way he can sink lower, anyway. There’s nothing more to lose, because Bokuto is proving himself extremely dangerous and Akaashi’s life has so much more value than even his hard-earned spot in this stupid high school hierarchy.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi nods, a slight downwards tilt of his head. “Ok-”</p><p> </p><p>The door to the classroom slams opens noisily. All three of their heads swivel around, and Akaashi feels his heart plummet right into his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto storms into the classroom, eyes alight with fury. Iwaizumi and Sawamura are standing a little ways behind him, blocking the doorway, and the rest of the football team is crowding around in the hallway outside.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi,” Bokuto starts, and his whole face crumples like he’s about to cry. “Akaashi, I can’t believe it. You’re really cheating on me?”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, Akaashi is too shocked to move. Then, everything suddenly tumbles into place and he realizes how incriminating this looks. Kuroo’s kneeling in front of him, hands on his cheeks and face mere inches away. Of course it looks bad.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Akaashi quickly snaps his head away in panic, freeing himself from Kuroo. The hockey captain doesn’t seem too bothered by it, glaring up at Bokuto poisonously as his hands drop back down to his sides.</p><p> </p><p>“I honestly expected better from you, Akaashi,” Iwaizumi steps forward, disapproving frown twisting his features. Akaashi shrinks under his gaze. The quarterback then crosses his hands over his chest and tilts his head to the right. “What the fuck are you doing here, Oikawa?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh. Iwa-chan,” For once in his life, Oikawa looks like he’s at a loss for words. His wide gaze falters, and then he’s plastering a flat smile on his face. “This is probably a private issue, right? We should go!”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa spares a look back at Akaashi, pain in his eyes, before flouncing out the door. Iwaizumi growls lowly, giving Sawamura a look and jerking his head towards the door. Then they’re leaving too, Sawamura closing the door behind him.</p><p> </p><p>It’s Bokuto who relaxes first, as the door closes and the footsteps shuffle away. His devastated expression gives way to a small, satisfied smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, give Akaashi back to me, Tetsu,” Bokuto says, lifting a hand and waving it like he’s beckoning a dog closer. When he takes a step forward, Akaashi flinches violently away. Bokuto frowns. “Akaashi.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi bites down on his lower lip, looking from Bokuto to Kuroo, whose head is bowed. His concern swells, but it breaks off into shock when Kuroo tips back his head. Even though he’s still kneeling, it looks like he’s looking down his nose at Bokuto. A laugh bubbles up from Kuroo’s throat, a dangerous sharpness returning to his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re disgusting.” Kuroo snarls, mid-laugh. Bokuto’s expression darkens, but Kuroo doesn’t stop. “You called them all here for your little pathetic show. Having fun playing the victim, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s mouth falls open, and he immediately turns to stare at Bokuto. He’s experienced Bokuto’s ruthlessness firsthand, and he found out about the rumours that Bokuto spreads about him, but he never once thought that Bokuto could be this scheming. Is this his goal? To drag their names through mud and emerge the victor? To make sure that he’s far from being prime suspect number one?</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bokuto snaps. His eyes have narrowed into slits, mouth curving downwards. The next call is a warning. “Akaashi.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Kuroo spits, getting up from the floor. He stops Akaashi from moving towards Bokuto by jamming his foot against Akaashi’s wheelchair; shooting a terrified Akaashi a reassuring look. Then, Kuroo weaves his fingers between Akaashi’s, raises their joined hands for Bokuto to see. “You’ve already lost him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo! Hands off!” Bokuto barks, rage darkening his expression as he marches forward and circles fingers around Akaashi’s wrist. Golden bronze meets dark brown in a heated glare. “Akaashi is <em>mine</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s grip is so tight that Akaashi can feel his bones grinding against each other. He tugs, hard, and Akaashi cries out in pain when his wrist almost gives out entirely.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t want this. He cares about Bokuto still, but the fear Akaashi fosters wins out easily. He doesn’t remember when the last time was that Bokuto hadn’t been hitting Akaashi, or having sex with him, or parading him around the halls. He doesn’t remember when they ever just had a good day without Bokuto’s mood swings or casual violence.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi can’t stay with Bokuto anymore. It’s impossible.</p><p> </p><p>When Akaashi looks up, tears blurring his sight, he meets Kuroo’s gaze. It’s screaming at him, yelling <em>trust me trust me trust me</em>, and it’s what pushes Akaashi over the edge.</p><p> </p><p>A wave of resolve washes over Akaashi. He has to do this. Akaashi has to be the one to break away from Bokuto, and then he needs to trust that Kuroo will be there to catch him. Akaashi clenches his hands into fists, exhaling deeply before focusing back onto his boyfriend. “Bokuto-san, I-I don’t want to be with you anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Bokuto growls, fingers tightening again. It makes Akaashi wince, but that’s the only sound that Akaashi allows himself to make. “That slut Oikawa must have been a bad influence on you. You’re not going anywhere, Akaashi.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh really?” Kuroo interjects. A familiar, confident leer spreads the hockey captain’s lips, exposing the pearly white teeth below. “Because I’m going to drive Akaashi to the police station, and he’s going to tell them all about what you’ve done to him.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is as shocked as Bokuto is. His mouth goes dry, and a lump forms in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>Going to the police is the last thing that Akaashi will ever do, but this must be their bluff. They all know that Akaashi has a multitude of bruises on his stomach, still visible even if they’re healing. And Bokuto knows that Kuroo has the photo he took of Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>A photo… that Akaashi can corroborate easily. Akaashi almost gasps. They have enough evidence! Bokuto left one more piece of evidence at Akaashi’s house, something with his fingerprints all over it. Of course. It was never plausible before, with Bokuto hanging around Akaashi all the time, but they can use it. Akaashi can’t believe he forgot about that.</p><p> </p><p>“My parents,” Akaashi adds, because this is his one and only chance of getting away from all the fear and abuse. He can see how fast the cogs in Bokuto’s mind are spinning, and he can identify the exact moment Bokuto comes to the same conclusion as Akaashi. “My parents will make sure you go to prison, Bokuto-san.”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s grip slackens and Akaashi takes the opportunity to rip his arm out of his boyfriend’s – no, his <em>ex-boyfriend’s</em>hands.</p><p> </p><p>As Akaashi cradles his sore wrist in his hand, Bokuto looks down at him with a betrayed look. It tears at his heartstrings, but Akaashi also doesn’t want to believe the emotions he sees, because he doesn’t know if Bokuto is just trying to manipulate him again. It’s easier to believe that Bokuto is lying to him all the time, because it’s just too hard to try to sort through what Bokuto means and what he doesn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“Please stay away from me, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi mumbles. The look on Bokuto’s face is nothing short of tragic, and Akaashi has to avert his gaze. “I won’t go to the police if you just do this for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You heard him.” Kuroo says, coldly, as he stands behind Akaashi and places his big, warm hands on Akaashi’s shoulders. The touch is a surprise, and Akaashi looks up at Kuroo’s smug grin.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi hopes that he can trust Kuroo. He really hopes that he hasn’t made a mistake.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi-” Bokuto’s eyebrow twitches. Even then, his possessiveness leaks through his wide, vulnerable eyes as he stares at them. His hair droops into his murky golden eyes, shoulders hunching over. He looks lost, thick eyebrows pulled together in confusion.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi looks away again, focusing on the floor in his shameful inability to face the same boy who abused him and raped him. He has always hated it when Bokuto looks sad.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto tries approaching them, taking an uncertain step forward, but Kuroo cuts him off and shoves him back. Akaashi can hear the gloating smirk in Kuroo’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re done, Bokuto. It’s over.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Shooting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone!! It's the last chapter and it's massive ^^" The chapter title speaks for itself, I'm sure hehe.</p><p>I'll leave everything else for the end A/N, so please do keep the warnings in mind and enjoy!! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi looks mournfully at the empty front porch of his house. He’s become so used to having Bokuto pick him up for school that he’d forgotten to make other arrangements. Akaashi hasn’t even told his parents about the breakup, yet. It just feels surreal, and even the thought that he’s <em>single</em> is odd.</p><p> </p><p>For such a long time, it’s always been Bokuto and Akaashi. Now it’s just Akaashi, and somehow, he doesn’t really know how to act even though he’s been alone for most of his life.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi reaches towards the back pocket of his jeans, swallowing as his hand brushes against the soft fabric of his sweater, then cold, hard metal. Bokuto’s pistol. He never kept it. Bokuto just left it under Akaashi’s bed, a spot Akaashi was hard-pressed to reach with his leg in such a bad state, in a thinly veiled threat. It certainly took some struggling this morning.</p><p> </p><p>The pistol is something Akaashi can use to incriminate Bokuto, but it’s also the last thing of Bokuto’s that he has in his possession. Now that things between them are over, both of them left to cool down over the weekend, Akaashi will return the pistol to Bokuto today and set himself free.</p><p><br/>Well, that’s if Akaashi even makes it to school.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi sighs, leaning on his crutch as he digs around in his bag for his phone. Maybe he can ask Oikawa for a ride… or not. Iwaizumi probably really hates him now. He’s just that kind of morally upright, even if his own boyfriend is keeping some rather unforgivable secrets from him. Maybe Hanamaki, then, since he usually drives Matsukawa to school too.</p><p> </p><p>Before Akaashi can pull his phone out of his bag, a glossy black BMW pulls up outside his house. The windows are tinted, and Akaashi can’t make out who it is, but the drivers’ side door opens almost as soon as the car comes to a stop.</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asks, even though it’s most definitely Kuroo who’s standing right in front of him, confident smirk and all. His varsity jacket peeks out from beneath his black winter puffer, his hands curling inside his pockets. Beneath that, Kuroo’s wearing another red sweater that droops over skinny jeans and matches the Jordan’s on his feet. “What are you doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Picking you up,” Kuroo shrugs, peeling Akaashi’s bag from his shoulder and tossing it in the backseat. The hockey captain does this all nonchalantly, like it comes naturally to him. Maybe it does, what with all the one-week relationships he’s been in.</p><p> </p><p>“Um. Thank you,” Akaashi says, blinking up at Kuroo as the taller boy slips an arm around his waist, guiding him through the slippery snow beneath their feet and into the warmth of his car. Akaashi stumbles a little while trying to tap the ice off the bottoms of his shoes, but Kuroo is as solid as a rock and he just stands there, supporting him without budging.</p><p> </p><p>As Akaashi settles into his seat, drawing the seatbelt across his chest, he admires the oak brown interior of Kuroo’s car. The seats are genuine leather, too, and it still has that new car smell. Akaashi warms his freezing hands against the small air vents, sighing contentedly at the brush of warmth.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo drives in silence, a world of a difference from Bokuto. His left arm is propped against the armrest, fingers tapping out a rhythm in time with the radio, while his right hand grips the steering wheel diligently. Kuroo’s eyes are always focused on the road. He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t speed. He turns smoothly and breaks gently.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi finds that Kuroo looks quite handsome while he’s concentrating, dark hair drooping into his dark eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, it’ll last longer if you just take a photo,” Kuroo teases, eyes flicking over to Akaashi for a split second before he turns his attention back to the road.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi feels his face heating up, and he drops his gaze back down into his lap. “I was just surprised.”</p><p> </p><p>“What, that I came to get you?” Kuroo asks. When Akaashi nods, he just snorts. “I told you I’d take responsibility, didn’t I?”</p><p><br/>Well, that may be true, but Akaashi didn’t really expect Kuroo to take it to this level. He thought maybe Kuroo would back him up if it came to Bokuto harassing Akaashi again. Anyway, Kuroo had been radio silent the whole weekend. It’s not like they arranged this beforehand, and Akaashi would have been long gone if he’d remembered to ask his parents for a lift.</p><p> </p><p>Ah. Akaashi suddenly has a realization. Kuroo is probably the type to assume that they’re both on the same wavelength. So he probably just assumed that Akaashi knows what he means by ‘taking responsibility’, although in truth Akaashi has no idea.</p><p> </p><p>“Also, you can just call me Tetsurou. Or just Kuroo,” the hockey captain continues, as they pull up into the Sendai High School parking lot. “It’ll make our story more believable, at least.”</p><p> </p><p>At his wits end, Akaashi shoots a confused glare at Kuroo. “What story?”</p><p> </p><p>“That we’re together, now?” One of Kuroo’s eyebrows shoots upwards. He stares back at Akaashi incredulously, and Akaashi wants to shout at him to keep his eyes on the Goddamned road, but Kuroo’s gaze snaps back before the words can get out.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are we together?” Akaashi asks, a little distracted by the fact that they’re already in school. He’s resorting to tugging at his shaking fingers, now. His heart is beating quickly in his chest, as well. Will people shun him? Will they turn on him now that he’s not with Bokuto? He’s really not looking forward to returning to school.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi, it’s kind of unavoidable after the show Bokuto put on last Friday.” Kuroo explains. The car starts beeping loudly as he puts it in reverse, edging into a free space near to the front steps. “Look, we don’t actually have to be together. We just need to act like it till all the wolves get off your scent.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi is still unsure. He doesn’t want to use Kuroo like this, even if he knows how much easier it will make his life. Kuroo picks up on his hesitance, and he sighs as he turns off the engine. “You trusted me when we faced Bokuto, and I’m here to hold up my end of the deal. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m here. I’m not going to leave you to deal with this mess on your own.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi stares at Kuroo for a moment, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. They’ve been so expressive lately, such a huge change from how emotionless they used to be, so Akaashi nods when he doesn’t find a trace of a lie. “Okay, I’ll trust you… Kuroo.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo beams at him, eyes folding into crescents, and Akaashi feels his heart flutter.</p><p> </p><p>Getting out of the car goes smoother than Akaashi expected it to. Kuroo hops out first, retrieving both their bags out of the backseat. Then, he comes round and opens the door for Akaashi. His touch is firm but gentle as he helps Akaashi out of the car, waiting till he’s perfectly balanced on the snowy ground before shutting the door.</p><p> </p><p>The fact that Akaashi and Kuroo have arrived together doesn’t seem to escape anyone’s notice. There are way more people waiting around the doors than what Akaashi is used to, just because they’re so much later than usual and the school bell is about to ring. Akaashi schools his expression into its usual unflappable state, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as Kuroo does the same – only instead of stoic and expressionless, he just plasters his most aggravating shit-eating grin on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>They’re not even touching, just walking side by side, but it’s enough confirmation for anyone watching them that the rumours are true. Akaashi can feel the eyes on him, but he stubbornly keeps looking forward and tries his best not to slip on the sleet beneath his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn,” A new voice joins them, and Akaashi looks up to see both Miya twins approaching them. It’s Miya Atsumu who’s speaking, lazy smirk playing on his lips as he examines Akaashi with an appraising eye. The blonde senior tosses a lazy arm around Kuroo’s shoulders. “You’ve really gone and done it this time, huh, captain?”</p><p> </p><p>Miya Osamu nods as he comes up behind Akaashi, watching apathetically as the younger boy struggles up the steps. The senior twitches when Akaashi almost slips, and then he sighs and looks at Kuroo too. “Does this mean we’re not friendly with the football team anymore?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope,” Kuroo says, popping his ‘p’ cheerfully. “Iwaizumi and Sawamura should fall into line once Oikawa and Sugawara rein them in. All we have to worry about is Bokuto.”</p><p> </p><p>The twins share a look, and then they nod; eerily identical. “Just Bokuto.”</p><p> </p><p>After that, school is surprisingly normal. Akaashi gets a few eyebrow wiggles and nudges from Hanamaki, who shares a few of the same classes with him. There are hushed whispers nipping at Akaashi’s heels, but they don’t escalate into anything more thanks to Hanamaki’s feral smiles and Kuroo’s unfaltering presence at Akaashi’s side.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, Akaashi makes it to lunch intact.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa takes the seat next to Akaashi at the lunch table. He places his tray down with a loud clatter, like he’s trying to make a statement. A glowering Iwaizumi follows after him, dropping down into the seat on the other side of Oikawa. He doesn’t greet Akaashi, but he also doesn’t say anything nasty – which Akaashi is grateful for. Matsukawa joins them soon after, muttering something about Hanamaki having some kind of project meeting in the library.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you feeling, Akaashi?” Oikawa asks, voice muffled by the milk bread he stuffed into his mouth. “It’s the first time you’re out of the wheelchair, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s all good, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi replies, fiddling with his fingers under the table. His nerves have mostly subsided, especially after hearing that Bokuto has called in sick, but he’s still not fully settled. “It’s a little tiring but Kuroo- Kuroo has been helping me with everything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” Matsukawa notes, looking up from his salad and fries. His sleepy eyes are a little more alert than usual, thick eyebrows raised in surprise. “You dropped the honorific.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi feels his face heating up. He almost didn’t, too. Force of habit. Akaashi never even dropped the honorific with Bokuto, even after they’d dated for about two years. Akaashi hasn’t dropped it with any of his friends, either, but that’s partially because most of them are older than him.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi spots a familiar leer out of his peripheral, before Kuroo is sitting down next to him. He places two trays of food down on the table, one in front of Akaashi, before throwing a casual arm around the back of Akaashi’s chair. The entire cafeteria seems to suck in a breath at the sight, and Akaashi’s skin crawls.</p><p> </p><p>“This… is a lot of food,” Akaashi mutters, surveying the massive pile of junk food on his tray.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I didn’t know what you’d want,” Kuroo shrugs. Akaashi almost startles when he feels the hockey captain’s hands wrapping around his, under the table. Akaashi’s hands go still for once, trapped in another set of warm digits, and he wonders if that had been Kuroo’s objective.</p><p> </p><p>“Are we all just going to ignore the elephant in the room?” Iwaizumi demands, eyebrows knit in a frown. The quarterback throws his hands up in exasperation when Oikawa just sends him a warning glare, and then he’s standing from his seat, chair scraping the floor. “Whatever. I’m out of here.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi quietly watches Iwaizumi storm out of the cafeteria before turning back to Oikawa. “I’m-”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Oikawa just says, going back to the food on his plate. He looks slightly listless, and even a little distracted. “Iwa-chan will understand once I explain your… situation to him. If you’ll let me.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi suddenly feels a little sick. He doesn’t reply the question, instead struggling out of his chair on his own. Kuroo follows him, as he’s been doing the whole day, and dutifully passes over the pair of crutches propped up against the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, what?” Matsukawa pipes up, sounding a little amused and a little intrigued. He’s leaning over the table, obviously excited for what he thinks is some juicy gossip, but Oikawa just snaps at him to shut up. Akaashi misses the last of whatever Oikawa is telling Matsukawa, too preoccupied worrying about the possibility of other people <em>finding out</em>.</p><p> </p><p>A loud scream cuts through the buzzing of the cafeteria, and both Akaashi and Kuroo pause on their way through the maze of tables.</p><p> </p><p>“What was that?” Akaashi asks, as they begin moving again. He feels uneasy for some reason, even though everyone else seems to have ignored it. Kuroo shrugs, but he’s worrying his lip between his teeth and gazing towards the opposite corridor.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi takes a sweeping look through the cafeteria. Oikawa is just getting up from his seat, taking his tray to dispose of his leftovers. Terushima has wandered over to their usual table and is flirting openly with Matsukawa – who’s flirting back with an amused smile. Sugawara is still sitting at his corner table, smiling charmingly at the other student council members. Sawamura is missing from his side, for once. Nearby, the Miya twins are busy bullying some kid next to the buffet line. There’s nothing out of the ordinary.</p><p> </p><p>It's only when Akaashi and Kuroo are heading out of the cafeteria proper that there’s another loud scream, much nearer now.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi pauses in his step, on high alert now, and he turns back just in time to see a sudden rush of students flooding into the cafeteria. Their faces are ashen, horrified. Akaashi frowns, because <em>what the fuck</em>, and then a loud bang echoes through the corridor. Someone screams again, and someone else falls down, but Akaashi doesn’t even have the time to react before Kuroo is scooping him into his arms and sprinting away.</p><p> </p><p>People in the cafeteria are panicking now, too, students gushing out into the corridor in a stampede. The word ‘shooter’ gets thrown around amongst frightened noises, and Akaashi feels his entire body grow cold.</p><p> </p><p>This can’t be happening. They’re in a good district, a district that doesn’t take active shooter drills seriously. A district that should be safe.</p><p> </p><p><em>This can’t be happening</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, what do I-” Kuroo chokes himself off, legs faltering as two more shots go off, cracking against the air like a whip. Akaashi is hard-pressed not to flinch at the loud noises, fingers curling tightly in the material of Kuroo’s sweater – it’s scary, like loud thunder in the middle of a storm, but he doesn’t want to jostle himself too much and make it even harder for Kuroo to run.</p><p> </p><p>The hockey captain is breathing hard, sweat dotting his brow, as he tapers off from the frantic crowd and into a vacated locker room. Kuroo quickly puts Akaashi down and goes to work barricading the door. There’s nothing much they can use, just a flimsy plastic chair that Kuroo props against the door handle. Akaashi plops down on one of the benches, hands trembling too much to hold himself up.</p><p> </p><p>Something roars, in the distance, and the ground shakes. Outside, the lockers rattle noisily. Akaashi doesn’t know what that is, because that’s definitely not a gun, and his eyes are wide as he stares at Kuroo.</p><p> </p><p>The senior looks shaken too, face pale and breath coming up in short huffs. He’s scared, maybe even on the edge of a panic attack, and Akaashi is spreading his arms before he knows it. Kuroo doesn’t hesitate – he surges forward and wraps his arms around Akaashi in a desperate hug.</p><p> </p><p>It feels good, because Akaashi can feel the way Kuroo’s shaking wanes under his touch, but Kuroo is holding him so close that Akaashi’s back is arching painfully against the hard metal in his back pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo,” Akaashi starts, in a whisper. He licks his lips nervously. “Don’t- Don’t worry. I have a gun.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Kuroo hisses, voice lowered even as he pulls his head away from the crook of Akaashi’s neck. “Why do you have a-?”</p><p> </p><p>They both flinch when they hear another gunshot go off, impossibly nearby, and Kuroo’s arms tighten around Akaashi till he can hardly breathe.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!” Someone swears, both near and far, and Akaashi perks up at the sound. He recognizes it, even if it’s not usually so riddled with fear, and the worry that races through his mind makes him call out automatically.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san-!” Akaashi gasps, but then Kuroo slaps his hand over Akaashi’s mouth and cuts him off. Akaashi frowns at Kuroo. He doesn’t really understand why Kuroo is acting this way. They might not be on the best terms, but that doesn’t mean they should leave Bokuto in the corridor to get shot.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi?” Bokuto’s voice is really, really near now, just outside of the locker room. He sounds tentative, but impatient. “Akaashi, are you here? I’m so scared, Akaashi. You have to help me.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi struggles against Kuroo’s arms. He licks a stripe up Kuroo’s palm, which gets him to let go with a grimace. “Kuroo, we need to help him!”</p><p> </p><p>The doorknob starts twisting, stuttering violently against the back of the plastic chair, and Kuroo looks down at him with a haunted look in his eyes. “Akaashi, I don’t think-”</p><p> </p><p>The door bursts open right then, and Bokuto stumbles in. He probably kicked the door to get through. He looks relatively unharmed, and Akaashi wants to ask if he’s okay just to be sure, but there’s something shiny in each of Bokuto’s hands. Kuroo’s reluctance, Bokuto’s absence from school – everything seems to click in place in Akaashi’s mind as his eyes land on the pair of semi-automatic handguns that Bokuto is carrying.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto Koutarou is the gunman. <em>Bokuto Koutarou</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Bokuto-san, you-” Akaashi cuts himself off as Bokuto turns to look at them. He looks angry, now, not a trace of fear in his voice or his expression. The younger boy’s gaze trails from Bokuto’s glinting golden-brown eyes, to the tussled salt-and-pepper strands drooping into his face, and back to the weapons in his grasp. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“You left me!” Bokuto spits, stalking towards them. They’re both frozen, Akaashi’s eyes glued to Bokuto’s guns in terror. “You humiliated me in front of everyone by choosing Kuroo over me. You told me that you were going to send me to <em>prison</em>. You destroyed my life, Akaashi!”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s mouth drops open, and a wave of guilt washes over him. As usual, Bokuto is right and it’s his fault. He should never have pushed Bokuto that far, and now Bokuto’s actions, and the people who died, who got hurt – it’s all because of Akaashi’s mistakes.</p><p> </p><p>It’s almost like Akaashi’s entire body has gone numb, his fingertips tingling. “I’m sorry, I- I wasn’t actually going to-”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck off!” Kuroo snaps, maneuvering Akaashi behind him. Suddenly, Bokuto is gone from Akaashi’s sight. He can only see Kuroo’s broad back in front of him, and the small tremors wracking through his body. Reaching out, Akaashi clutches tightly at the back of Kuroo’s varsity jacket. “Stop blaming everything on Akaashi, Bokuto. <em>You</em> decided to do this, all by yourself. It’s no one’s fault but yours.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi sucks in a sharp breath. No one has ever defended him like that, and especially not to Bokuto.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto has always gotten his way, and anyone who dared to go against his wishes has been efficiently crushed beneath his wealth, or his strength, or his charm. Bokuto has never once lost in his entire life, and Akaashi can acknowledge that if there’s anyone who can go up against Bokuto, it has to be Kuroo.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re wrong!” Bokuto growls, lifting one of the guns. He’s so quick that neither Kuroo nor Akaashi can react to it, and they can only watch in stunned silence as Bokuto’s finger presses down on the trigger.</p><p> </p><p>There’s no loud bang, no warm blood splattering anywhere. Kuroo doesn’t sag lifelessly onto the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Just the soft click of an empty cartridge.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi chokes on a relieved bubble of laughter, mind racing with thoughts of how fucking lucky they have to be for Bokuto to run out of bullets, but it all comes crashing down on him as Kuroo is ripped out of his grasp.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s useless weapons are thrown haphazardly away as he tackles Kuroo to the floor. Akaashi cries out, teetering dangerously on one of his crutches as Kuroo’s supportive presence disappears.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto and Kuroo land heavily, grappling at each other on blue tiles. Akaashi feels helpless, because he can’t do anything to help Kuroo. Unlike Akaashi, they’re both athletes – tall and built, adorned with muscles they both know how to use. Akaashi is smaller than them, leaner, and to top it all off he has a broken leg. He wouldn’t stand a chance.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo grunts loudly as Bokuto gets in a good punch onto his torso. It’s the opening Bokuto needs to pin Kuroo down onto the floor, thighs bunching as he keeps Kuroo from bucking him off. Akaashi’s breath quickens, watching with wide, panicked eyes as Bokuto’s hands, familiar hands, circle around Kuroo’s neck and <em>squeeze</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo makes a pained, choked noise. His eyes are wide and wet, transparent with horror and fear, and this is the first time Akaashi has ever seen Kuroo cry – or not? He remembers those same eyes, but he can’t remember where he’s seen them before.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s clawing frantically at Bokuto’s fingers, but Bokuto isn’t budging. If anything, he presses down even harder and Akaashi can’t breathe, because Kuroo can’t breathe either and his face is turning red, and when Akaashi blinks he suddenly has a gun in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop! Or I’ll shoot.” Akaashi shouts, as loudly as he can manage. Sheer terror courses through him like there are icicles in his veins. He can’t stop trembling.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto turns his head, golden-brown eyes dark like Akaashi has never seen them before. He spots the gun first, and it seems he recognizes it because his face goes blank. It takes another second, but then Bokuto’s hands fall slack and he finally lets go of Kuroo. The hockey captain slumps down onto the floor, breathing hard and fast like he can’t suck in enough air to his lungs.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo is in no condition to stand, let alone put up a decent fight, so Bokuto turns, hands in the air, and slowly approaches Akaashi.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi, baby,” Bokuto simpers, and his eyes soften; rounding out into innocent golden-brown orbs. He looks vulnerable, suddenly, voice wobbling with fear. It’s the same voice he used outside the locker room, and Akaashi forces himself to ignore it. “Akaashi, you love me, don’t you? I’m sorry, I should never have doubted you. You’d never stray from me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi sucks in a deep, shaky breath. His eyes are stinging, vision blurring, and Akaashi realizes that he’s been crying. The gun shakes in his grasp. “You don’t mean that, Bokuto-san. You wouldn’t have hurt me if you actually cared about me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Akaashi, I really am,” Bokuto says easily, steadily advancing on Akaashi with little shuffles of his feet. He looks chastised, like a little boy who’s just gotten scolded by his mother. “You know I love you, so much. It’s the only reason why I do the things I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop right there.” Akaashi just replies, as coldly as he can manage, even though his heart is breaking apart. He can’t help it. He thinks about all the good times he’s had with Bokuto – all the times Bokuto has made him feel loved and treasured.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows that their relationship devolved quickly and became much more of the bad than the good, but he still loved Bokuto. No, that’s not true, because Akaashi <em>still</em> loves Bokuto, even now. And it’s fucked up, Akaashi knows, because Bokuto has hurt him and betrayed him so many times. Bokuto doesn’t deserve the concern that comes flooding Akaashi’s senses the moment he thinks Bokuto is hurt or scared or upset.</p><p> </p><p>Police sirens wail from outside, tires screeching loudly on asphalt, and Akaashi’s eyes flicker away from Bokuto for a second too long. Bokuto has been watching Akaashi all this time, after all, and the momentary distraction is all he needs to lunge forward and knock the gun out of Akaashi’s grasp.</p><p> </p><p>The pistol skitters away from them, Bokuto’s body heavy on Akaashi’s. Akaashi’s crutches clatter noisily to the ground as he loses his balance, falling over onto his side with Bokuto tumbling down right on top of him.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi cries out in pain as he lands on his hip, but there’s no moment of reprieve. Bokuto is on top of him, eyes narrowed and cold, and he presses his body weight onto Akaashi’s bad leg.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi sobs, pure agony ripping through him as he writhes below Bokuto’s hulking figure. “Stop, please-!”</p><p> </p><p>“You would never have shot me, because that’s just how weak you are,” Bokuto snarls, and he’s changed faces, changed moods, so many times that it has become disorientating. Bokuto pauses, and then his entire face softens, a loving smile gracing his lips. “Because you love me. Because you’ve fallen for me so hard that you were never able to leave my side, no matter what I did to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s breath hitches in his throat, shock locking him in place as he stares up at Bokuto’s kind smile and distantly feels the fingers tugging at his pants and tearing at his sweater.</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t that why you called out to me, just now?” Bokuto says, as he leans down to press his body flush against Akaashi’s. His voice is a mere whisper, a hiss above the loud beating of Akaashi’s heart. “You still care about me. Even after everything I did to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I…” Akaashi starts, but then he realizes he has nothing to say. He doesn’t even have any kind of suitable rebuttal because he knows it’s all true.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto sighs, closes the gap between their mouths and kisses Akaashi deeply. He tastes like blood, and it’s the only thing Akaashi notices before Bokuto is pulling back again. The soft expression is gone again, now replaced by a wicked grin. “You’re mine, Akaashi. Forever. And you know it too.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi knows it, but he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t. He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out Bokuto’s invasive hands and the feel of his breath puffing against his skin.</p><p> </p><p>But then Bokuto’s hands still, freezing entirely even though he’s inches away from what he wants. The moment seems to stretch out for an eternity, in the voluntary darkness that Akaashi doesn’t want to leave.</p><p> </p><p>Then there’s a loud bang, right in front of Akaashi’s face, and he screams even though his eyes are still shut and there’s blood in his mouth now, too. A heavy weight slumps over onto Akaashi, warmth seeping into his clothes and onto his skin, and somehow Akaashi already knows that Bokuto is dead, even if he can’t see it.</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi trembles, eyes still shut tightly as he feels the body getting dragged off him, hears shuffling, muted sounds around him.</p><p> </p><p>“A..shi,” A broken husk of a voice whispers, and Akaashi knows that it’s calling his name. Akaashi slowly eases his eyes open, focusing first on the blood pooling on the floor, before there are slender fingers propping up his chin and guiding his gaze into wet brown eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Kuroo,” Akaashi gasps, and the world crashes down on him. Everything seems too loud, too much, and his breaths are deep and shuddering. He whimpers, curling in on himself. “<em>Kuroo</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo doesn’t say anything. He just sits back down beside Akaashi and pulls him into his arms. Kuroo is shaking too, breath hitching quietly as he presses Akaashi’s head into his chest, blocking out the sight of the dead body lying a mere few feet away.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo doesn’t seem to care about the thick, crimson blood staining his clothes and his shoes, or the blood dripping down Akaashi’s face. Kuroo doesn’t seem to care about anything else, as he runs his trembling fingers through Akaashi’s hair in the best comfort he can give.</p><p> </p><p>And that’s how the police find them, mere minutes after Kuroo Tetsurou shoots Bokuto Koutarou.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{End}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OMG and we're done!! </p><p>Thank you everyone who left kudos and commented, y'all really helped me churn this out. I'm glad y'all enjoyed this even though there are so many messed up things happening.</p><p>If you'd like to re-read this story in chronological order, it's: <strong> Before (1-6) &gt; The Shooting &gt; After (1-6) </strong>. I've never read it through this way (since it's only just been finished) but I did plan it out so that it can be read either way. Chapter 11: "After (6) - The Graduation" is meant to be an alternate ending :) </p><p>If you'd like to read more from me, I'm now writing "Irezumi: The Memory of you" and I'd love for you to join me over there &lt;3 If not, then do be sure to subscribe/bookmark this series, because i have so many things planned for this, like an Oikawa backstory and more Kuroaka :)</p><p>Once again, thank you all for your support &lt;3 I'm happy that so many people are enjoying my work &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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